Shades of Night
by Faerlyte
Summary: Turian executor Pallin of the Embassy leads a simple life. At least he had, until he's ambushed with a stranded human female named Pilar. Now he's neck deep in a 25 year old murder mystery involving her parents and the Alliance Military's best kept secret.
1. Chapter 1

_**Shades of Night**_

_Chapter 1_

**Disclaimer: **I don't own, nor do I claim to own, anything belonging to the Mass Effect universe. My only claim to fame is the plot and my original character whose name you will discover shortly.

Other notes: Executor Pallin is a minor character in Mass Effect. He's the turian sitting in one of the offices at the Embassy (and apparently the head of C-sec, which I just discovered...about 10 hours after I posted this...). I picked him for the lead role because I loved his voice in the game. Anyway, there's a lot more going on in this story than the summary can possibly cover. It's primarily a mystery with some romance involved and a little adventure as I get further into the story. All questions raised by the summary will be answered in due time. Enjoy!

* * *

Executor Pallin of the citadel Embassy had a simple task in his day to day routine. It involved sitting at a computer from sun up to sun down, keeping logs on all activity through out citadel space and directing his officers accordingly. Occasionally he would be defining foreign policies for hair brained idiots or sorting out interracial disputes, but on most days no one stepped into his office. It's what one earned when they made it to the top of C-Sec.

On his best day he won rachni solitaire ten times on the highest difficulty.

Today was not to be one of those days. It wasn't a fore-gone conclusion so much as it was an itch that he couldn't scratch, warning of mischief to follow. Pallin despised mischief in his office, especially when it was of the human kind. He wouldn't trust one with a potato gun, never mind that he had stooped to using their ridiculous idioms on a regular basis.

A few of them held some modicum of merit, admittedly – the idioms of course.

There were no humans in his office now. What had given him that idea in the first place he didn't know. Perhaps it was linked to the ominous "feeling" in his gut that today was doomed to leave him with a raging headache. They were a pesky race…dangerous.

It was high time for a vacation. How long had he been chained to this desk without even sick leave? Whatever it was, it numbered in the years.

The electronic swish of his office doors sliding open caused the turian executor to blink and lean his elbows on the desk, eyeing his newest visitor warily. She was tall with a dark complexion and amber colored eyes. This human he was familiar with, if only from reading her extensive file. Alliance personnel…

"Shepard. What can I do for you?" Pallin asked.

"Executor Pallin." The woman nodded respectfully. "I'd like to ask you about Saren."

Pallin's brow lowered in a scowl. Of course it would be _that _one. The only thing worse than a human was a rebellious, law-breaking turian. They made a bad name for the rest of the race. No wonder he wasn't feeling well this morning. Any day that began with a conversation about Saren was bound to be a bad one.

Little did he know, it was about to get worse.

* * *

Meanwhile, high above the embassy offices an old Alliance freighter had come into dock. A lone figure walked slowly across the quay, large eyes casting furtively at her surroundings. No one followed or seemed to notice her departure. She passed through the elevator doors, scanning the quay one last time and finding it empty of pursuit.

Her hands twitched restlessly at her sides as she breathed in deeply, eyes shutting in a rare moment of solitude as the elevator began its decent. She ran shaking fingers over her short, platinum braids, shifting from one foot to the other; it had been the longest three weeks of her life.

A voice erupted from the overhead speaker, eliciting a startled yelp from the girl as she levitated off the floor. As the harmless news flash continued to stream she relaxed again, cursing herself for good measure.

"—his intention to direct Hamlet with Elkor cast members…"

The girl lifted her head, listening. Maybe there was some hope for her yet, but she wasn't too optimistic on that point.

Circumstances had left her few options for adapting to the world she found herself in. She knew she would stand out horribly. The long sweeping dresses of the human women here were far too expensive for her to blend in and she didn't like them besides, but neither was she military. People would notice her.

The elevator came to an easy halt as the light landed on floor ten. Her eyes flashed nervously towards the doors as they began to slide open and she bristled, hiding her face. She peeked surreptitiously through the veil of her lashes as the stranger entered the elevator.

And then the girl stared, forgetting herself, a perfect expression of awe and admiration written across her face.

A turian – in the flesh. She'd never seen one before. Their metallic skin and raptor-like features were far more intimidating in person than they were in pictures. He was two heads taller than her too and decked out in a purple and black battle space suit. He lacked the face paint, but it did nothing to diminish his powerful demeanor.

Inquisitive silver-blue eyes met hers and she looked away quickly. He had a bizarre purple screen over his left eye.

Was he a C-sec officer? She had heard of C-sec. They were the last people she wanted to be involved with at the moment.

The turian watched from the corners of his eyes as the girl examined her shoes with false intensity, as if wishing to be elsewhere. There was dirt smeared on her cheeks and across her forehead, and though her hair looked newly done, it still held traces of oil in it.

The elevator resumed its descent, its rhythmic hum the only sound within. Everyone knew that there was no love lost between the turians and humans since the war. There was no telling how either felt about the other. Neither would press the matter.

He was still watching her when she lifted her head to sneak a glance his way. She visibly stiffened, her face flushed with further embarrassment at being caught, before averting her gaze to the door.

To the turian, she appeared strange and out of place. She wore a lavender and navy blue uniform of some kind, cut short just above the knees with short sleeves and leather flight wing caps on each shoulder. A piloting suit maybe? But she bore no military insignias. Her knee high leather boots were clunky and oversized too, certainly not cultural norm for a young woman.

It was in that moment that the elevator reached the first level and parted its doors. The girl glanced at the turian uncertainly and waited. The turian looked back at her, debating. He shrugged and stepped out.

She followed slowly, mesmerized by an intense culture shock as she entered a whole new world from her own. There were races of every kind lounging throughout the foyer. Two turian guards stood on either side of a second elevator across the room, a Krogan was off to the side speaking with a human, and an asari was walking beside a salarian.

There was no comfort in the familiarity of human kind. If anything they were more unsettling because she didn't fit in with them either and it was too obvious. Her gaze roamed as her feet automatically started walking. The attention of the room was slowly gravitating towards her.

A trickle of apprehension glided down her back as she felt the weight of their gazes bearing down on her. She looked after the turian who had been in the elevator with her only moments before. He had just reached the second elevator across the room. Her eyes drifted indecisively about the room, her knees twitching, before settling back on the turian.

It was now or never.

She dashed for the elevator, hoping fervently that she hadn't waited too long. With one fierce leap she cleared four steps and came to a sliding halt as the elevator doors began to close in front of her. An armored hand, two fingers and a thumb, reached out just in time to block the closing door and allow her to pass through.

With a sigh of relief the girl darted inside, smiling uncertainly in acknowledgment of the turian's kindness. "Thank you." She murmured.

The turian looked at her quizzically, choosing this time to speak, "This is your first time at the citadel?"

She glanced up at him, her expression wary. "Yes." She replied.

His metallic skin shimmered and his stony brow lifted slightly. "Where from do you hail?" He asked, genuinely curious. She had remarkably large, dark brown eyes. Or maybe it was their stark contrast against her pale skin and light colored hair that made them appear huge and bottomless.

She tried to hide it, but he caught the flicker of pain across her face as she hesitated. Her head shifted away from him, obscuring her face from his view as she rubbed her cheek self-consciously. "Just a ship." She replied softly. "I've been in space…for a while."

The turian paused, clearly unsure of how to proceed. He sensed foul play. There was no denying the harried state of her appearance or the hint of strain in her voice.

Then the elevator stopped. This time the turian stepped back, motioning for her to exit first. The girl blinked in surprise before passing through. Her eyes widened with a gasp at what lay beyond the shadows of the overhang; the towering, majestic buildings of the citadel and a great expanse of clear, glistening water.

"Amazing, isn't it?" The turian queried, gauging her reaction as he stepped beside her.

"I never imagined I'd be here." The girl remarked wistfully. Her gaze was downcast for a moment as she struggled with something. Then she spoke again, lifting her head resolutely, "I was born and raised on earth. Galactic space travel has never been very cheap."

A turian's facial structure was ill suited for expressing emotions as aptly as a human did, but when one tried a smile was sometimes achieved. Unfortunately, it gave the impression of the devil's grin more often than not. The girl didn't seem to notice though and even returned the gesture, albeit awkwardly.

"I would suggest that you visit the embassies." The turian said at last, for lack of something better. "There's an artificial intelligence stationed up there." He indicated above the building they had just exited. "She can help you find your way around. Just follow this path around to the left."

The girl nodded, understanding. "Alright."

He hesitated for a moment and decided to throw caution to the wind, "My name is Garrus, by the way. I work in C-Sec – that's this building we just came from. If you need anything, just ask for me at the front desk."

"Thank you, Garrus." She replied warmly.

The turian paused, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "While you're in the area, you might pay a visit to Executor Pallin in the Embassies too. He could use some company…and he might be able to answer any questions you might have. Tell him Garrus sends his regards."

She tilted her head inquisitively, "I see. Maybe I will." She agreed slowly.

With that, Garrus bid her farewell and turned to leave.

"Garrus?" Her voice stopped the turian mid stride and he twisted 90 degrees, his head turning back at her expectantly. The smile reached her eyes this time, "I'm Pilar."

"Well met, Pilar." He said smoothly. Then he was on his way.

The girl stared after him wistfully until he was out of sight, and turned away with a dejected sigh. She stood there for a while, solemnly resolute – a solitary figure in a sea of unknown with a single bag slung over her shoulder. Her gaze followed the path that Garrus had shown her.

Pilar would pay a visit to the Embassy first.

* * *

Executor Pallin drummed his fingers against the edge of his desk rhythmically. How much information could an Alliance Officer hope to drill from an Embassy executor? His knowledge of Spectres was limited and her time was not free. Word was she had a date with the council this afternoon – not something to be taken lightly.

He was deep into a game of rachni solitaire that had been showing promise before she arrived too.

"Is there anything else, Shepard?" He asked. He was not here to discuss his personal feelings towards humans and the Alliance Military, and he had a feeling neither was she. Not that it was entirely out of line for her to ask, considering his obvious attitude regarding them. Perhaps he should tone it down a bit in the future.

"That's all for now. I'd better go." She responded curtly.

"Goodbye Commander." Pallin said cordially and breathed a sigh of relief as Shepard departed from his office.

The moment of silence was short lived however, for no sooner had the woman left before _another _one peeked through his still gaping doorway. That had to be a record. Even more unnerving, she appeared lost and fully intending to interrupt him to gain her bearings.

Pallin was inclined to send the little chit on her way. Then he thought better of it when it occurred to him that perhaps "little chit" was an inaccurate assessment of the woman hovering in the hall outside his door. She was shorter than Shepard by a head and almost a decade younger, if he were to guess, but a full grown woman nonetheless.

She was also unusual. Not military, but certainly not a native citadel civilian either. Her clothes and rugged appearance suggested she'd been abroad. Her eyes appeared troubled as she stepped inside the room cautiously, avoiding his appraising glare.

A pretty little thing, despite the grime, he allowed himself.

Pallin scowled deeply at the bizarre train of thought his mind had suddenly taken. He didn't have time for this. Where in galactic space had she come from and what was she doing outside his office anyway? Why hadn't he shooed her away yet? And _why _was she looking at him like that?!

The girl's shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath, and then she began her approach, much to Pallin's dismay. Obviously she was lost. There was no reason in man's hell for her to be here, unless she had something of relevance to report.

Good Gods he hoped not. Something about her was unnerving him.

"Can I help you?" Pallin inquired with a forced calm.

The girl paused in mid-step, her expression a mixture of surprise and…was that intrigue? She quickly resumed course, coming to a halt at the edge of his desk. Her eyes skimmed across it, searching –a gesture Pallin was suspiciously aware of. Her fingers worried the seams of her suit and she cleared her throat, "Excuse me. You wouldn't happen to be, ah…" her brow furrowed thoughtfully, "—executor Pallin, would you?"

"Guilty as charged." He replied, sitting back in his chair with interest. "How can I help you?"

"The human ambassador is out today." She explained with hesitance, "I was re-directed here…and Garrus from C-Sec suggested that I pay you a visit. He wishes to send his regards."

Pallin made a mental note to kill Garrus at the earliest possible moment before returning his attention to the girl before him. He clasped his hands beneath his chin, choosing his words carefully, "How…thoughtful of him." He drawled, and stole a longing glance at his solitaire game.

"Should I come at another time?" She spoke before he could continue, her expression apologetic. "I'm going to venture a guess that what he really meant by that is I'm the last person you would want to see."

Executor Pallin was rarely rendered speechless and never by humans. He always had something to say when humans were concerned as a general rule, but this one wasn't behaving within the established norm. There was nothing false or strained in her courtesy. The only strain he could see was that of exhaustion.

Her shoulders fell and she bit her lip, "I can ask someone else."

"Wait." Pallin didn't know exactly what was going through his mind when his traitorous mouth uttered the word, but he held up his hand for her to stop anyway. "What is it that you need?"

It was dramatic how the entire room suddenly filled with the ethereal brightness of her relief, but it was gone an instant later. Pallin had made an art of reading faces over the years and he knew a shadow of despair when he saw one; hers went deep. He didn't know why, but it bothered him.

The girl hesitated, a myriad of emotions flitting across her face. Something made her ease up though, for she spoke rather freely. "I have no money, no friends or family on the citadel, and no idea of where I should go or what I should do."

Pallin regarded her in stunned silence for a second time. Then he reached for his console. Within an instant he had brought up all records of the latest passenger bound Alliance ships to enter Citadel space. His eyes narrowed slightly. According to his computer there had been no Alliance passenger ships in the last two days and the next was not due for another three.

His gaze lifted casually to meet hers, inwardly calculating. This was an unanticipated disaster of a kind he was not used to dealing with. Surely she was too young, too sweet to have gotten herself in this kind of trouble? He looked again at the screen, bringing up more information that might explain the girl's presence here.

"There were no Alliance passenger ships coming in today." He reported bluntly, gauging her reaction. "How do you come to be here?"

The girl shook her head easily, almost relaxed, but the shadow in her eyes intensified. "I came by a private ship."

His hand hovered over the control panel, ready to call security if it became necessary. "Which private ship?" He interrogated sharply.

This time she flinched. "The Dauntless." She answered softly and dropped her gaze to the floor in subdued silence.

Pallin felt a twist of guilt in his stomach and folded his hands in his lap, brooding. The Dauntless had passed through cargo bay this morning. However, it did not carry passengers. "Are you a stowaway?"

She shook her head again. "No." She added clearly.

There was no lie there, but _something _wasn't right. Pallin sighed inwardly. He didn't have time for this. "Very well. I will see what I can do for you. In the meantime, if you take a left down the hall outside my office you'll find a café. Speak to the manager, tell him that I sent you and that you're looking for work."

The girl nodded firmly, "Thank you." She was turning to leave once again when he called her back.

"I don't believe I have your name." Pallin inquired.

"Pilar." She replied.

He reached for his console again. "Alright then, Pilar. Come back to my office this evening at 8 and I will speak with you further. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." She replied and made a swift retreat. When she stepped out into the hall she stopped and started to turn around as if to speak, but seemed to think better of it. She was gone a moment later.

Pallin pondered the girl long after she had left. Practically speaking, this was the human Ambassador's problem, not his, but seeing as the bastard was conveniently preoccupied with something else, the turian had been ambushed with it instead. He could always hold off until the Ambassador's returned.

Only Pallin didn't trust the Ambassador and was reluctant to leave the girl to human authorities. Perhaps he would have one of his own look into it. He chuckled suddenly and reached for the calling terminal, muttering to himself as he dialed, "Garrus, my boy, revenge is sweet."

* * *

A long day's work had finally come to an uneventful end and Pallin stood up from his chair with a long, drawn out sigh. For the second time that day he wondered about a vacation. He needed to get out from under the cramped space of his desk for a while. It was doing his limbs a world of pain with so little opportunity to move aside from pacing his office.

Work had kept him especially busy today without the added bonus of dealing with an orphaned human girl. Perhaps she was too old to be considered such, but he had no better description for her. She was already late for their meeting and Pallin wanted nothing more than to go home and relax for a few hours.

He was about to call it a day anyway when the girl came dashing into his office out of breath. She had cleaned up since their last meeting, though her clothes were the same. Her hair appeared to be slightly damp.

"I see you deemed to arrive after all." He mentioned idly, sitting back down in his chair with an air of impatience.

"I'm so sorry." She blurted out, still flushed from exertion. "I had to run all the way from the theater to get here."

He arched a sardonic brow, "And did you find what you were looking for there?" Pallin had never caught on to the performing arts as the humans were so fond of.

Judging by the crestfallen expression, he guessed she had not found what she wanted. "Not yet." She admitted.

"And until you do?" Pallin asked, stretching the kinks from his neck.

Pilar shrugged wearily, "I don't really know."

"Did you speak with Jacob?" He continued. He was coming to the end of his resources, or at least the ones he was willing to expend on her. If nothing else, he could find her a job in Chora's den. The image that came to him made his throat convulse. Or perhaps not…

"There was one place…" Pilar trailed off uncomfortably.

Pallin's eyes narrowed, "Chora's?"

Her gazed flashed indignantly for an instant and then she had retreated back within her shield. "I didn't accept." For the first time her voice held a strain of anger.

"Good." Pallin stood, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "I have a list of all the current vacancies in this section. Come back tomorrow when you have decided and we will continue from there."

Pilar accepted the list readily and gave it a quick glancing over. He watched her gaze halt midway down the page and waited. She seemed to consider it for a moment before continuing on down the list.

"If nothing is to your liking, you will have to choose the next best thing." Pallin informed her. "Now, if you will excuse me I am locking my office for the night."

The girl nodded absently, her mind clearly sidetracked as she wandered out into the hall. At least she was interested. "Thank you for helping me." She said suddenly in earnest. "Goodnight."

Pallin grunted in response. He paused, glancing back at her thoughtfully as she disappeared down the hall. Shaking his head of foolish thoughts, he finished organizing his works space, shut off the console, and locked the office. When he reached the reception desk, Pilar was sitting on one of the benches out front, staring up at the sky forlornly.

The turian executor proceeded to walk by her without as much as a glance in her vicinity. He made it five steps further and came to a reluctant stop, fists clenched at his sides as reason fought with conscience. He turned around, biting back a groan of irritation, and pinned her with an intrepid stare, "Have you a place to stay tonight?"

Pilar glanced up in surprise, "No. I was going to stay here, if it's alright."

"This is not a public sleeping area." He retorted. "I will pay for your room if I must."

"Oh no, please don't!" She pleaded, bolting to her feet. "I won't accept your money. I'll find somewhere else to go."

The turian's scowl deepened. "Then accept my hospitality."

At that she hesitated, her brow furrowing in consternation. "That's…very kind of you, sir. I'd rather not be a burden though. Are you sure?"

_Except for the part where you already are, _he thought moodily. The turian returned her gaze, "I would not have offered otherwise. Let's go."

Pilar picked up her bag in silent resignation and followed him to the quick transit. "How am I going to repay you for this?" She asked pointedly.

"Leave that discussion for a later date." Pallin replied gruffly. "I suspect we are both quite tired._ I_ certainly am."

She did not bring the subject up again and was asleep before the transit had arrived in the residential area where Pallin lived. He studied her broodingly as he stood above her, concerned and unsure. He thought about just leaving her there, knowing in his gut that he couldn't and wouldn't, but it was a nice thought anyway.

How had his life become so complicated?

For the third time that day he found himself seriously considering vacation…an extended one. Retirement would be better.

* * *

Pilar awoke the next morning to the pleasant surprise of a soft mattress underneath her. She couldn't remember the last time she had had the privilege of a soft bed to sleep on. The Dauntless had never been comfortable. But this felt almost like home again…almost.

She rubbed her eyes of sleep and yawned, gathering the pillows to her as she rolled over and buried her face in them. Last night was hazy in her mind as she tried to recall the events that had landed her in a soft bed. The last thing she remembered was getting on the quick transit. Sometime between then and now she had ended up here, which she assumed –if memory served her right—was a room in Executor Pallin's home.

Her eyes widened in alarm, but she couldn't muster the energy to get up. The warmth and comfort begged that she savor it at least a while longer, until Palin came to roust her up. She could think on the mystery while enjoying the soft bed.

He hadn't likely brought her here himself while she was sleeping. She must have walked here of her own accord. It would be exceedingly awkward for a turian to be carrying a human woman into his home after all. And she was a stranger.

Yet, the idea made her stop and wonder. It was almost romantic, in a ridiculously bizarre sort of way.

Within the confines of her thoughts Pilar didn't hear or notice the figure in the doorway. Her eyes were peacefully closed in a daydream, oblivious to her benefactor's presence. Had she known, she would have gone red to the tips of her ears.

It was a good thing turians couldn't read minds.

* * *

Pallin was an early riser from years of habit and a job that demanded he check in at seven sharp. Now, for the first time in perhaps his entire career working at C-Sec and the Embassy, he was in danger of arriving late.

What should he do with her?

Of course he had intended to wake her much earlier, but when he knocked on the door and there had been no answer, he had taken a peek inside and couldn't muster the courage to do it. She was obviously quite ensconced. Heavens knew how long it had been since she last had slept in a real bed, but he could imagine it had been a long wait.

Should he trust leaving her alone in his home? There was little of any value for her to steal and nothing that he thought she would take notice of or that he would particularly miss. All files and information pertaining to his work were carefully stored away in his office or locked in his room. Yes, perhaps he would go and let her sleep instead. It looked as though she needed it and he was not about to turn down an opportunity to be free of her for the morning.

So it was with that in mind that Pallin departed the premises, hoping fervently that he wasn't the fool that he was beginning to think he might be. If word got out that he was keeping a human in his house –a young, female human to be precise—he would have more than just a few things to answer for. He could very well lose his job.

Pallin immediately squelched the surge of joy at the prospect. When and _if _he left, it would be in style, not handcuffs.

* * *

It wasn't until an hour after Pallin had left that Pilar finally got up. The silence of the place felt suddenly eerie to her and the closed shutters didn't help. She was not sure what to expect after she'd woken up here, but this was odd; surely he hadn't left her there?

Pilar stifled a groan as she climbed out from under the covers and crossed the room quietly to the single window. She turned off the shades, shielding her eyes from the onslaught of morning. They were on the ground floor, she noted. There was a pond out back with a stone walkway and various tropical plants growing along it.

Her lips formed a faint smile. There were even oriental lilies, her favorite flowers. Flowers were so rare now days.

She surveyed the pretty ensemble sadly, sunlight playing off her hair in silvery shades of gold. It was not home she realized. There were no trees, no mountains – no animals. But then, there were few of those things anywhere anymore. Everything was so…barren.

With a sigh she turned away and retrieved her boots. She would have to make do for as long as it took, and she would have to repay Pallin in some way. He had already gone well beyond the call of duty for her sake and she had nothing to give in return.

The door of her room slid open into a hall with bare white walls and a gray carpet floor. A light switched on as soon as she entered the hall. No sound emitted from any part of the apartment.

There was a living room at the end of the hall with a single chair and reading table beside it. A glass coffee table sat at the foot of it and there were two book cases lined up against the left wall as well as three more along the hall to her right. A door midway down the hall was probably the bathroom and the one at the end Pallin's room.

It was so solemn. There were no pictures on the walls, no possessions, no personal expression of any kind –except for the books. Of books there were plenty, including one on the coffee table beside the chair.

Out of curiosity Pilar picked up the leather bound text in question and examined it. Her head slanted to one side, intrigued. It was a book of human poetry. She returned it gently and continued around to the kitchen counter where two pieces of paper sat, a plain glass holding them in place.

The first was a note from Pallin.

_Pilar,_

_Lock the door when you leave if you would. I will be in my office all day whenever you are ready to discuss your employment._

_Signed,_

_Pallin_

So he had left her here to her own devices. Pilar couldn't suppress a swelling of pride along with a trace of trepidation. She would have to think of something truly grand to repay the kindness of his trust.

The second paper was the list of vacancies he had given her the previous night. She had her choice narrowed down to two already. Now the question was between what she should do and what was easy.

If she took the Spaceship engineering job, she risked discovery, but it also gave her access to classified information. With a little care she could avoid getting caught. She needed time though – time that she might not have to spare.

Pilar sagged into the only seat in the room, her legs draped across the arm of the chair as she leaned against the opposite one. She regarded the paper sadly. Somehow, it seemed to remind her of everything she had hoped to leave behind, but fate pursued her relentlessly.

She hoped that she might see mountains and green meadows again. Here in this cold, lifeless place full of strangers, she felt a prisoner. For the first time in longer than she knew, Pilar felt tears trickle down her face. A few dripped onto the paper, smearing the print.

There was no question what choice she would make.

* * *

Pallin was becoming increasingly irritated this morning, the girl being the least of his problems. The day got off to a bad start with a hysterical woman storming up to his desk and demanding her money back for a faulty biotic amp sold to her by a turian vendor who refused to reimburse her.

Then, as if his mood was not foul enough already, news had reached him that Garrus was going off world with none other than the Alliance's new poster girl, Commander Shepard, thus foiling his plot of revenge. It was exactly the kind of thing he imagined the sentimental Garrus would do too. Pallin grudgingly wished his fellow turian well, if only because it would get him out of his business for a while.

Pallin had assigned another one of his officers to investigate the girl, never mind that _he_ was in the best position to do so - his days of grunt work were over. If there was anything worthy of interest they would undoubtedly find it anyway, which meant that all Pallin had left to do in dealing with her was getting her employed. Technically speaking, that wasn't in his job description, but he had been feeling generous yesterday…and bored.

Perhaps Garrus was beginning to rub off on him.

The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass at a mind numbing crawl. Off world disputes seemed to be becoming more frequent as of late, which was a cause for concern. Pallin guessed that it was geth related, but that was out of his hands.

He was beginning to wonder by the time 4 o'clock came around if he should have checked the girl for a pulse that morning. Surely she had not been sleeping this entire time? She was probably off doing whatever it was young people did, although without money that might be difficult.

Pallin scowled. Assuming that finding her work proved successful, she would not be able to afford her own living quarters for at least another two weeks. What was he to do about that? She wouldn't accept money, but she'd sleep in his house?

_Ridiculous_, he scoffed. Whatever came over him to offer her lodging? It had to be the most hair brained, idiotic thing he'd ever done. He might never be rid of her now and it would be entirely his own fault, but she had no place left to go and his guest room was always empty. It was the logical thing to let her rent it out, if only so he could keep a close eye on her.

But Pallin hadn't endured the company of another living being in years. The very thought was horrifying to him. His personal space, while sparse, was important to him, sacred even. Yet he had openly admitted her inside it last night, or rather carried her – she had proven determinedly impervious to his attempts at waking her.

The doors swished open. Pallin looked up with beleaguered anticipation. Whatever remark he had prepared to blurt out upon her arrival abruptly sank back down his throat.

Her eyes were red and slightly puffy, despite obvious attempts to hide it. She pretended not to notice as she sat down opposite him and wordlessly handed him the paper. Pallin observed her shrewdly as he accepted it, before abruptly averting his attention away.

There was one pen marking on the entire page and two blurry splotches where something moist had leaked the ink before drying again. Circled in the black ink was the caption "Spacecraft engineering assistant/secretary". His brow furrowed in mystification. It was probably the best job on the list and the one she was least likely to qualify for. He'd really only put it there as an afterthought.

"Do you have a second choice?" Pallin asked.

"It won't be necessary." She assured him quietly.

Pallin sat back and regarded her coolly. A slip of a girl, barely 20 years of age, without a penny to her name and no credentials, and she was applying for a job in spacecraft engineering? Sure, it was the secretary job, but this was high end employment.

But they did need someone for the position, so far be it from him to pass judgment. She was welcome to try.

"Very well." He said. "I'll have a print out for you with directions to the research facility and the application papers."

Pilar nodded. The room was enveloped in silence punctured occasionally by the tapping of keys. Pallin did his best to ignore that she even existed and was succeeding only in being more aware of her presence in the room. That she didn't speak was unnerving. She clearly needed to.

"I want to thank you again, for giving me a place to stay." She said after a minute. Her voice seemed distant.

"The room is yours until you can afford your own apartment." Pallin replied automatically. He had debated it of course. It wasn't until that very moment in fact that he had come to his final decision, or rather his mouth had. Perhaps he should have it wired shut.

The girl looked up at him, speechless.

"When you have enough funds to cover your own place, you may pay me back for rent." Pallin deadpanned and handed her a small stack of papers. "Here you are."

Pilar took them, scanning over the front page quickly. She nodded in satisfaction and abruptly stood. "Thank you. You've been so kind." She paused, meeting his gaze tentatively, "'l'll see you this evening?"

"Yes," Pallin drawled reluctantly and reached into his desk to retrieve something. When he found what he was looking for he presented it to her. "This is my spare key card. It will unlock the door if I am not home when you return."

The girl took it slowly, her eyes glossing over somewhat. She smiled faintly as she turned away, "Good day, Pallin."

The turian shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had barely squashed the urge to chase after her and demand to know what was going on. The girl had a maddening ability to turn him into an idiot. If any of his superiors found out this, he'd be the laughing stock of the entire idea was simply ludicrous.

But Pallin hadn't reached his position in foreign affairs by following foolish impulses. He had learned quickly how to smother them by remaining coolly detached to anyone and everything. He'd been viewing the universe objectively for so long it was a wonder he felt anything at all anymore, which was all the more reason to be wary of her. She threatened his calm.

And she was now sharing his home.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I really wanted to write a Mass Effect fic, specifically one revolving around a human/turian relationship, but I couldn't use major characters for this particular storyline. I'm really excited about it though. I'm just not sure of how it will be received, considering that one of the characters is an original creation of mine. Hopefully that won't be too much of a turn off in this case.

Aaaand holy crap I just found out that Pallin is the_ head_ of C-Sec. Well, THAT'S interesting. Too bad I'd already posted the chapter when I found out. Well anyway, to those of you who have read it with the newest updates, I tried integrate that little piece of handy information into this as best I could on short notice. The good news is it really helps with the rest of the story.

Let me know what you think. Thanks,

Faerlyte


	2. Chapter 2

**Shades of Night**

_Chapter 2_

* * *

Pilar roamed the Presidium slowly, watching the people around her with reserved curiosity. Sometimes they looked back at her, but mostly they went about their own business. The harmony of the citadel was remarkable. There had been a time when peace between two independent races of great intelligence seemed a distant prospect.

Maybe it still was. The citadel made a nice illusion of it, but beneath that was a much uglier reality. The single most imperative instinct of any species was that of survival. Nature had been honing its children for years to compete for the domination of her kingdom. One didn't simply forget.

This was merely a hodgepodge of dominant species trying to elbow their way to the top. It was natural to want to ensure one's survival. No one wanted to be the underdog, but someone had to be.

How long could this illusion be maintained before it crumbled under the strain? Too many people and too little care for the small, seemingly insignificant things bred anger and resentment. There would always be those who believed their superiority deserved recognition over others, and they would jump at the first opportunity to prove it – Pilar overheard their conversations everywhere she went. Many of them were humans.

Anyone with a modicum of intelligence could start a war, but sometimes all it took was a single piece of information to ignite hatred into an unstoppable force.

If it continued, the hammer would have to fall and there would be blood in every corner of charted space.

Pilar inhaled a fresh breeze as she leaned over the railing and gazed down at sunlight dancing on water. She shivered involuntarily; her reflection was hardly recognizable.

The past was lapping at her heels even as she ran from it. She had to reach higher ground before she could meet the danger. Maybe then there would be a happy ending for someone.

But there was another way – an absolute solution, the easy route. Pilar just didn't want to take it, the selfish part of her refusing to go down without a fight. Her family hadn't gone through all they had for her sake just so she could give up – not when there was a chance for everyone to get what they wanted, even perhaps herself.

She pulled away from the railing with a sigh and headed towards the building looming at the far side of the bridge. The Spacecraft Engineering facility was a lot bigger than she was expecting. Of course, she never expected the citadel to hold 13 million people either. This strange new world was full of wonders.

Pilar retrieved the application papers from her bag as she meandered. Her fingers leafed through the pages, double checking that they were all properly filled out. All she had to do now was walk through that door and not stick her foot in her mouth.

It was one of the most crucial steps in her grand scheme, but one of the easier ones to accomplish.

Thank life for tiny favors.

* * *

It was late when Pallin finally left the Embassy that night. He had managed to spend the rest of the evening so dredged in his work that he never thought of the girl, but now that he was free his mind was consumed by her.

Pallin made his way slowly home as he thought on the problem waiting at his apartment. She was without a doubt a nuisance, if not something worse. Some ground rules would have to be laid if he were to survive this ordeal with his sanity still intact.

A turian's home was simplistic in nature – they had no use for superficial things. Most of them were too busy working to enjoy anything that might be at home anyway. It was the only peaceful retreat that Pallin could afford himself though, and he had no intentions of giving that up for his tenant's own aesthetic pleasure. If she so much as blinked suggestively at the bare walls of his apartment he'd drop her in the hall and lock the door behind him.

He worked all day, every day of the week. His breaks were spent patrolling the citadel, acting as the council's go-between, or harassing his officers about their questionable behavior. Nights were the only time Pallin had to rest his mind and body.

The apartment complex came into view all too quickly and the turian sighed.

Pallin wanted nothing more than to sit down and nurse his throbbing headache while stewing in the primordial juices of his frustration. He couldn't even blame it on her. His own officers made him irate on a daily basis.

Stupidity was truly marvelous in its forthrightness sometimes.

Another C-Sec officer had been stripped of rank today due to blatant misconduct. Pallin was not ignorant of their discontent towards the strict regulations, but neither was he sympathetic. He had earned one of the most prestigious positions in all of galactic space and he hadn't cheated once to get there. It was his job to hold everyone to the same standard.

It was the impatience of his own kind that truly disappointed Pallin the most. They were no less guilty than anyone else. The frail peace that held this place together relied on the rules that people like him set forth. When the officers sworn to uphold those rules failed in doing so, they corrupted the entire system. Pallin would not stand for it.

Sometimes he had to wonder if his was a dying breed, but musings of that nature served no purpose beyond fueling his frustrations. He tried not to think about it.

That left him with the girl to ponder over. There were consequences to consider in boarding her, besides coming home and finding his apartment painted fuchsia pink. Everything about her was an unknown and people of that sort were dangerous. They made a good show of being innocent before they turned around and stabbed you in the back.

As long as he took all the necessary precautions, he was not responsible for anything she perpetrated, but he was not about to let something happen under his watch. She had walked unknowingly into his trap. It would be interesting to witness her reaction when she found out that he was, in fact, the head of Citadel security.

Pallin got perverse pleasure out of the idea, which he was not entirely ashamed to admit. She was still human after all. They were all up to something in his mind, whether it be plotting for galactic domination or simply existing to irritate him. None of them were innocent.

Yet there was a tingling at the base of his skull whenever he tried to justify those thoughts. It was the last shred of empathy shivering in protest as he crushed it under his heel. The guilt would still gnaw at his gut even as he pretended not to feel it. Pallin's only defense was the grudging courtesy he gave for the species he distrusted most in citadel space; humankind.

Now he was helping one of them to an extent that went beyond the consideration he gave for most people of his own race. She was curiously endearing to him and he didn't know why. That thought bothered him even more than the idea that she was a criminal. At least being a criminal was normal, even expected. It was something he knew how to manage.

This was not.

The prospect of her being at some fault left a bad taste in his mouth somehow too. It was a bizarre sensation considering how many people he'd put behind bars without hesitation or remorse. Something here wasn't right however, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Pallin finally came to stand before the door to his apartment and promptly glowered at it. He felt the first shivers of apprehension at the thought of facing her. His civility only went so far where her kind was concerned. He wasn't obligated to it in his personal dwelling, regardless of her presence there.

Perhaps if he ignored her he could avoid confrontation all together.

The door was locked when he tried it. Had she not returned or was she just taking precautions? Pallin's scowl deepened as he entered the 7 digit code he had memorized for this month – he really only had just one keycard that he'd given to her, but she needn't know that. The doors slid open smoothly into a dark, quiet room.

How many times had he come to this very same empty room as he did now? It was almost as if the events of the past two days had never occurred and this was just another night of solitude. Only now he looked upon the shadows within tensely, waiting for something to pounce.

Pallin took a cautious step forward, sending the automated lights flickering at his movement. He examined every inch of the apartment, including her empty room. Nothing had changed. There was no indication that another person had ever even been there.

So she hadn't come back yet.

He had just gone into the cupboard to pour himself a drink when the door to the apartment slid open. Pallin pretended to ignore it as he filled his glass with a clear liquid, but his ears were carefully trained on the movement behind him. When he turned around she had an armful of bags. She was also wearing a new uniform with an insignia on the left shoulder.

"Good evening." Pallin announced coolly from his shadowy alcove behind the bar. The lights were always turned off in that particular area.

Pilar jumped at the sound of his voice, spinning around and losing half of her luggage on the floor. Her shoulders relaxed abruptly when she saw him, but her eyes remained cautious. "You scared me." She mumbled and stooped to retrieve her things. "Sorry I'm late."

"I assume you got the job." He stated carefully, his gaze drifting curiously to the insignia she wore. Aerospace research was one of many departments in Spacecraft Engineering institute, but it was not what had been on the paper. She did not look like a secretary in his esteemed opinion.

She glanced back at him with a brief, but tired smile. "Yeah."

Pallin sipped his glass, watching her intently as she shuffled across the floor towards her room. Her shin promptly collided with the coffee table and she let out grunt of pain, followed by an expletive that would've made a krogan proud. On second thought, it _was _krogan.

Where had she come by that?

"I would like a word before you retire for the night." Pallin informed her and glanced at her bags. "Once you are finished."

"Ok. I'll only be a minute." She answered and disappeared down the hall.

It was less than that it turned out. The girl dropped her things inside the door of her room and turned right back around to join him in the living room, where she promptly sat down on his floor. Pallin was on the verge of protesting when he noticed the opaqueness of her pallor and the languid sag of her shoulders.

She was clearly exhausted, but she waited attentively for him to speak.

Pallin stepped away from the bar counter of his kitchen and stopped in front of her, his glass held still in his right hand. He contemplated the girl, committing every aspect of her to memory should he need it. A silver chain hung around her neck, but it vanished beneath her shirt. He could not tell what was on it.

"Is everything alright?" She asked, disrupting his thoughts.

His mouth twitched. "Your room is yours to do with as you please, as long as it is returned to its original state upon your departure." He began stoically. "As for the rest of the apartment, I expect quiet and solitude. Neither of which will you disturb while you are here or I will swiftly evict you. Is that understood?"

Pilar nodded firmly.

"No decorating my walls or pestering me with conversation, and do _not _fill my bathroom with frivolous female beauty products."

Laughter was not the reaction he had intended to achieve. He had deliberately made the guidelines for their joint living rigid to avoid familiarity, not condone it. It was meant to discomfort her and solidify his dominance over the apartment.

My, how mightily that plan had backfired.

Pallin glowered reprovingly at the girl in a last ditched effort to salvage his dignity. She quieted obediently, though with a slight frown.

"Does that include shampoo, or do I not get to wash my hair?" She asked, her mouth hovering between a grin and a frightened scowl.

"All rudimentary hygiene materials are provided by the complex." He returned shortly.

"Oh." Pilar blinked, her brow furrowing in consternation. "They do that?"

Pallin sighed impatiently, "Yes, they do that." _Man's hell, __had she been raised in a cage?_

She looked away, her face downcast. "I see." She murmured. "It's very different here…from what I'm used to."

He wanted to pry – to ask her where she had come from that was so different, but it was too soon. If he questioned her now he risked chasing her away.

Pilar looked up at him, biting on her lip broodingly, "Do you…" She began haltingly, her face contorted in a frustrated frown. "Can I make a request?"

Pallin arched a dubious brow, "I will hear it." He said.

The girl stood up abruptly, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. "I won't pester you with conversation, but, well…this is all very new to me and there's a lot that I don't know. I have to ask questions…"

"It will depend largely upon what you're asking and how often, but I can comply up to a point." Pallin replied warily. "Rest assured you will know when my patience is tried."

Her face melted into an easy smile, "Thank you." She said and turned down the hall. Just as she reached for her door she stopped, whirling around suddenly. "I almost forgot. I'm working 8 hour days, from 7 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon."

Pallin merely nodded in acknowledgment.

Pilar smiled faintly, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He hadn't meant to say anything, but his courtesy response was so automatic now that it was second nature.

Pallin mentally cursed himself for the slip as he wandered towards the bookcases and reached between them to a panel on the wall. The touch screen lit up and he punched in a series of letters. A soothing piano piece began to play and as he took a seat with his book, sighing contentedly.

At least she hadn't had the nerve to question him about _that_. It was careless of him to leave the book there in the first place. It was only a matter of time before she brought it up. Humans were such a curious species and aesthetic to a fault, or so he believed.

She had taken to his arrangements admirably well though, to give her credit. Perhaps this would be easier than he had first anticipated, but he wasn't counting on it.

* * *

5:30 the next morning an alarm clock came to life blaring "Burning Bridges" by The Mike Curb Congregation. A hand flung out from under the covers on the nearby bed slammed down savagely on the off switch. There was a short pause before the indistinguishable lump underneath elicited a tired groan and threw the top half of her blankets back, revealing bare shoulders and a mussed up head of loose platinum hair.

Pilar glanced sideways at the old digital alarm clock her father had given her when she was 7 and blinked away sleep. The song was an old favorite of his, despite being nearly two hundred years old. They used to sing it together when mom was in a bad mood; it always seemed to make her smile, mostly because Dad couldn't sing worth beans, but it was still fun.

She rubbed her eyes quickly, holding back a surge of tears, and swung her legs out from under the blankets. The carpet was warm and rough under her feet as she crept to the door to peek into the hall. It was dark and quiet – Pallin wasn't up yet.

Pilar quickly tip toed out into the living room and stopped in front of the bathroom. Her eyes drifted to the door at the end of the hall and saw it begin to open. She had to stifle a giggle as she darted into the bathroom just as Pallin was emerging from his room, and locked the door behind her.

He had failed to lay any ground rules for when she could use the shower and for how long. If there was anything that Pilar was fiercely territorial about, it was the shower – she would get him this once, if it was the last chance she got. Never mind that she knew nothing about turian hygiene habits and that it was quite possible he had no intention of going in there to begin with.

She made it a quick shower, just in case. The worst part was splitting her hair and putting it in the braids while it was still damp, but she had been perfecting that art for a long time. Pilar hung up her towel and hastened out of the bathroom in about 15 minutes time – not bad.

Pallin was reading something in the kitchen, a mug of steaming liquid that smelled suspiciously like coffee. It was like home again, if only for an instant. Her father had drunk the concoction every morning, every afternoon, and every night. Caffeine never affected him like it did most people, a trait which Pilar had inherited from him.

The turian glanced up to acknowledge her presence and hesitated on her person, his eyes narrowing. Pilar looked down at herself, confused, and suddenly wished she hadn't worn such revealing bed clothes, but that's how people _dressed_ nowadays. It was probably just that he hadn't seen a human woman in her sleeping garments before, but did he have to look at her like that?

Her cheeks felt hot as a blush crept up her neck. Then she fled the room in as dignified a manner as she could.

* * *

Humans really were bizarre creatures. Pallin had never seen something that could appear so naked. Most animals had hair or scales for at least the pretense of being covered. But humans…they were nothing but frailty without their clothes. They didn't even have the advantage of blue skin to hide their blemishes as the asari did.

He had to wonder why they insisted on going about so indecently dressed when they had so little natural coverage. At least she didn't go around like that in public, though he was aware that some human females did. The intense fascination that humans seemed to have for bare skin was lost on Pallin, but then, they were a different species.

It had been amusing at first to see her flush in embarrassment and dash madly from the room though. He couldn't suppress the chuckle that emerged from the back of his throat after she'd gone. Then it dawned on Pallin that he was coming dangerously close to enjoying her company and he stopped himself.

That was unacceptable. He'd spent his entire life keeping everyone around him at a distance. He was not about to allow some human girl get under his hide.

No, he was going to close himself in the bathroom on the pretense that he actually had something to do in there before she came back and distracted him from his objective. It was unfortunate that they both had work at 7. They would likely make contact again when he had to leave, but until then the bathroom it was.

Pallin idly examined his reflection in the mirror. Some might have called him fiercely proud, others strongly opinionated, and then there were those who thought him bitter and cold. He would've said yes to all the above.

One didn't get to be in his position by having compassion or being close to others.

He did not make friends, especially ones of the humankind whose motives for being here in the first place were unknown. It never occurred to Pallin that her presence would cause him fear until it was already upon him. Not just any kind of fear either. This was a fear of change, a fear of waking up and finding that you regret the last 20 years of your life because you've been living on auto-pilot.

Pallin wasn't prepared for this sort of illumination, but he felt it creeping up on him. It came from the familiarity of sharing one's home with another when you've spent so long alone that you've forgotten what it felt like to have companionship. If this was how he felt after one night and a morning, he would be in for a long and arduous ride.

It was only when he heard a knock that Pallin jerked out of his reverie. He glared at the door with a mixture or irritation and relief. The turian despised himself for his rarre lapses into morbidity.

He thought about not answering, but he had no intention of being a coward for the duration of her stay. Pallin opened the door abruptly and found himself looking down at the girl with scarcely a foot between them. Her eyes widened as she bristled and quickly hopped a step back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you." She blustered. Her eyes would flicker towards him, then away, then back again, as if she were afraid to look at him for too long at once. "I was wondering if you could spare some of your coffee? I'll buy you more."

Pallin resisted the urge to deny her request out of spite, and sighed, "If you must." At least it was a relatively cheap brand, unlike _some _things that the humans were so fond of exporting.

"Thanks." She smiled hesitantly and ran back into the kitchen.

He was strangely relieved now that she was clothed. It made the setting feel more formal, as it should be. Walking around in one's sleeping garments suggested familiarity, which Pallin wanted to avoid.

Now was a prime time to leave, he concluded. There was a slim chance of her case report awaiting him at the office and he was anxious to find out what it said. He was confident that it would answer at least some of his questions and perhaps allow for him to take action.

Pallin headed for the door purposefully, pausing to address the girl, "I will not likely be back until late." He said.

Pilar tilted her head to the side, "What time do you get off?"

"Officially at 8, but I'm usually there until at least 9." He replied and added coolly, "Do stay out of trouble."

She frowned, chagrined, "I'm not a troublemaker you know." She said quietly and her eyes drifted away. "Despite what it might look like."

The turian grunted dubiously, "That has yet to be proven." With that he departed.

* * *

Pallin reached his office feeling distinctly out of sync with the world. Her words disturbed him, not only because they reeked of honesty and an underlying pain that he couldn't understand, but also because there was an obvious strain in the back of her voice. Perhaps she didn't make trouble, but trouble had followed her here.

That was the impression he got anyway.

No news of her investigation had come in either. That was a bad sign considering how easy it generally was to get a person's case file. All citizens coming to citadel space were required to provide one upon entry, which seemed to suggest that hers was missing if his officer had yet to find anything to report.

That would be grounds for immediate arrest.

Until Pallin had confirmation there was no point in thinking about it though. A day of work would hopefully clear his mind of her and set him back on track.

* * *

Almost a week went by and still no word. Aside from that disturbing little fact, Pallin had settled into a relatively comfortable routine of ignoring Pilar while she was in his home and she appeared to do the same. There was always a tension in her shoulders that continually sparked his suspicion, but he remained quiet, waiting and watching.

It wasn't until Friday night when the girl finally worked up the nerve to disrupt their tentative silence. She didn't work Saturday and so was not inclined to sleep apparently, for she emerged from her room the instant Pallin had turned on the music and sat down.

He regarded her suspiciously as she crept into the room, a strange device tucked under one arm. She faced him with an uncertain smile, "Would you mind if I sat out here with you?" She asked and examined the floor with deliberate intensity. "I…I'd rather not be alone."

Pallin couldn't very well fault her for she had been more than agreeable for the course of her stay thus far. She had stayed out of his way, rarely speaking to him, though much of that could be attributed to the fact that Pallin was more or less living in his office now. When by chance the opportunity arose, she did not pester him however.

"So long as you do it quietly." He murmured in return and resumed his reading. Or at least, he made out to be resuming his reading. In actuality he was watching her and the curious thing she had brought out with her.

The girl was painstakingly careful in removing the strange, clunky pieces from the underside of the contraption. Then she turned the board over and began placing the pieces on a surface of black and white squares. The first row was made of up identical pieces, simple in nature, while the back row contained larger, more unique characters.

When she had finished placing them two rows on opposite sides of the board, one side of black pieces and another of white, she activated the computer.

Pallin lowered his book a fraction to watch as the game began.

Before he knew it, he'd dropped all pretense of reading and was regarding her with open fascination. She appeared oblivious to his scrutiny her attention was so concentrated on the game at hand. Everything she did was slow and methodical, each move one small step in a grander scheme to trap the enemy and capture her opponent's pieces.

Her face scrunched up in consternation as one of her own was taken. She bit her lip, sitting back with a concentrated scowl. That was when she finally noticed his eyes on her and blushed.

"I'm not very good." She mumbled self-consciously.

Pallin sat up and examined the board, "I would not know." He allowed. "— though he does appear to have more of your pieces than you do his."

Pilar arched a quizzical brown, "You've never played chess?"

"It is a game, worse yet, one devised by humans." Pallin replied nonchalantly. Never mind that solitaire was one such "game".

The girl wrinkled her nose thoughtfully, "I think you'd like it."

He snorted derisively, "I do not have time to squander on foolish amusements."

Pilar squared her shoulders, deliberating as she lifted her gaze to his, "I'll make you a deal."

Pallin hesitated. Perhaps it was worth hearing, he reasoned with himself. If she had something worthwhile to offer he might even agree to it. "Go on." He encouraged grudgingly.

"If you let me teach you how to play," She began, "I'll answer one question of your choice for every time you beat me."

Pallin sat back slowly, his piercing blue eyes hard and calculating as he considered her. Her expression remained composed, but her gaze belied the magnitude of her gamble. She knew what she was offering and how much it would tempt him, but she had all the appearance of someone who intended to keep her word.

"Any question?" He echoed.

She nodded, "Any question."

"And how can I know what you answer is truth and not fabrication?" Pallin pried.

Pilar smiled, "I'm sure you have plenty of means at your disposal to test my honesty." Her eyes twinkled, "You are the head of Citadel Security after all."

Pallin leaned forward, his elbows braced against his knees as he clasped his hands methodically. So she already knew and now she was offering him what she must know he most wanted.

Why? Was she that confident of her skills that she didn't think he would beat her? Or was it something else? She was conning him into keeping her company, of all things. Pallin couldn't fathom why something so trivial would be worth such a price, so he was inclined to believe that she had an ulterior motive.

Unfortunately, the temptation was too great for him to pass up. It was also the perfect disguise for his honest curiosity in the workings of the game.

The turian glanced back at the board and its pieces. She would find a greater challenge in him than she probably anticipated. Pallin did not back down from a challenge, especially when he had everything to gain from it and virtually nothing to lose. She had asked nothing of him.

He _would _beat her, sooner rather than later.

"Very well." Pallin said at last, though he drew it out long enough to make her squirm.

Pilar's lips parted in an open smile and she hopped up, taking the chess board with her. "Ok," She placed it over to the coffee table in front of him and sat down, clearing her throat as she picked up the most basic piece on the board, "This is called a pawn…"

She proceeded to explain each piece in turn, how they moved, what they were especially adept at. She spared no effort in describing every facet of the game that she knew, answering his questions when he had them, and advising him on the best moves while he played the computer on his first attempt. It was both refreshing and infuriating.

He had to hand it to her – she had read his character well when she said that he would like it. It was both mentally stimulating and quiet. He was proving to be quite bad at it.

"Don't worry," Pilar said after he'd lost his fifth consecutive game in a very short time and on beginner's level. It was fortunate that a turian's temper was hard to ignite. "It's always like that when you first start out. I'll let you keep the board if you want, so you can practice."

Pallin eyed her speculatively, "And what makes you think I have time to practice?"

She bit her lip, "Well…"

The turian frowned expectantly.

Pilar sighed, "I found out about you from your officer actually." She admitted, a tinge of color rising in her cheeks as she fidgeted. "I wasn't supposed to tell you, but…he came to me the other day and asked me out for a night, informally of course, and we talked some. I guess it's fairly common knowledge that you spend some time playing solitaire."

Pallin bit back an oath. What in man's hell had he been thinking assigning another _human _for her case? He should have realized the danger it might entail. No wonder he hadn't heard anything from the lovesick fool. He was too busy romancing his subject.

And how did the entire C-sec know about his solitaire games?! Was someone bugging his office?

"I'm sorry." She said.

The turian let out a sound akin to a hiss as he stood and made for his room. "Oh I'm sure." He said icily and proceeded down the hall without looking back.

Pilar watched him go sadly before putting up the chess pieces. Then she stood, turning off the music that he so often played (she'd meant to ask him about it). Her heart felt heavy as she wandered down the hall to her own room.

She would have to think of something to placate him.

* * *

When Pallin awoke the next morning he was in a distinctly foul mood. He would have to meet out punishment today for another officer and for the most ridiculous reason imaginable. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. A human was more likely to have access to her files, but Palllin had forgotten the single most important factor regarding the human race; they were perpetually horny.

Not for the first time Pallin was thankful that his own people only went through that behavioral pattern twice a year, and for no longer than a week.

Pallin entered the hall stifling a sigh and was met by the rich aroma of coffee. He paused, unwilling to show himself just yet. She had not seemed affronted last night by the knowledge of his looking into her background, but she would undoubtedly be on her guard. There was no knowing how she would face him today.

It was her day off though and she was making coffee bright and early.

As if on cue, Pilar appeared in front of him, a cup of dark brown liquid clasped in her hands. "Here." She said and handed it to him. "Tell me what you think."

He tasted it reluctantly and was genuinely surprised by the flavor. It was stronger and far richer than what he was accustomed to, but that was for the better. Pallin scowled down at the contents of the cup with disdain to hide his pleasure. "What did you do?" He asked pointedly.

"Whole beans." Pilar piped up proudly. "It's always stronger when you grind them yourself. This is the kind my father…used to have." She trailed off and turned away abruptly.

Pallin studied her oddly. It was the first time she'd made any mention of her family. "And where is your father now?" He chanced.

Her shoulders rose and feel with a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't really know." She replied. Her hands reached up behind her neck and undid the clasp of her necklace. Then she faced him, handing him the chain and the locket that dangled from it. "This might not be any use to you at all, but this is their picture – my parents, just in case."

He examined the thing studiously, flipping it over in his hand to see the other side. There were three initials etched onto the silver backing, "P. S. R.?" He read aloud and met her gaze questioningly.

"Pilar Solaire Rosenburgh." She supplied. "I'll write it down if you want."

"Why are you giving it to me?" Pallin inquired cautiously.

"Because you want to know more about me." Pilar stated, "—and I'd like to know what happened to my parents."

Pallin chose not the press the matter any further. She had already given him more information than he could've hoped for and was not likely to be forthcoming with any more. What she had given him would probably be enough to find out what he wanted to know anyway.

Pilar finished scribbling her name down on a note and handed it to him. "I'll see you tonight." She murmured and disappeared into her room.

* * *

**Author's Notes: ** Thanks to everyone who left feedback. I really wasn't sure how this would be received, but so far the responses are positive. Hopefully I can keep this going.

Also, the reason I chose a non-canon character to play a major role is because the plot I have in mind simply wouldn't work with any of the main characters. I really wanted to write this particular story though so I took the chance.

Faerlyte

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**_Shades of Night_  
**

_Chapter 3_

* * *

Pilar dangled her legs into the murky pond, curling her toes at the soothing brush of the water against her skin. Giant koi and various other species of fish that she didn't recognize roamed through the weeds with languid sweeps of their fins. At the first sign of movement they would dart for cover and wait until it was safe again, and then they slowly drifted back out.

The gardens were a quiet retreat. Pilar didn't know how to access them properly, if they were accessible at all to the public. There was a sidewalk that wound through it, which suggested that it was open to someone, but she didn't know who. She had had to climb through the window of her bedroom after forcibly prying it open in order to get in.

Her mother had loved plants and gardening – a habit that Pilar never acquired, but she enjoyed the fruits of such efforts. This place was a myriad of plant life that her mother probably would've sacrificed a limb to see. There was everything from trees and climbing vines to ferns and flowers. Some of them were poisonous, some of them giants, and some of them carnivorous.

It was remarkably full of the life and history of a dozen diverse planets. Pilar liked the colors and the smells, and the bits of masonry placed inconspicuously throughout the garden. She recognized some of statues that had come from earth as duplicates of art created thousands of years ago, but there were others too that were clearly by nonhuman hands; they were all beautifully crafted.

Pilar leaned back with a content sigh, bracing her hands on the flat surface of stone beneath her. It sent a thrilling chill up her arms. The air was clean and smelled of fresh rain. She cocked her head to one side as she examined a gnarly tree with weeping branches and purple leaves, and considered climbing it.

The hushed solitude soon gave way to the cheerful warbling of birds. Pilar sat up straight, looking around intently, and smiled as she caught just a glimpse of wings through a canopy of leaves. She hadn't thought of there being birds on the citadel, not even here in their mini eco system, but then any good ecosystem could use some help with pollination, and birds would take care of other, destructive, interlopers.

It wasn't long after that that she started noticing insects, most notably bees.

She wasn't entirely surprised then that this place might not be open publicly. It was a fragile world, so easily corrupted by people. Keeping it safe depended on the integrity of those who might utilize it, which, sadly, was often absent. Even in the event that it was off limits, Pilar admitted to herself that she couldn't refrain from coming in the future.

Once upon a time this had been her world too – she shouldn't have to give that up because of people who didn't treat it with the same respect.

It was getting on into the afternoon though and the temperature was rising. Some of the insects were the biting kind, which was the deal breaker in the end and Pilar retreated back within the safety of her room. Then she wasted half an hour attempting to wrestle her window into submission, to no avail.

Everything relied so heavily on electronics now that dealing with anything manually seemed to invite disaster. Pilar was sweating from exertion and heat from the sun as it broiled through the glass. The shades had ceased functioning too, as it were. Pushing the window a little too far past its range of movement had broken everything.

"Damn it to hell!" Pilar gritted her teeth while profanities of a more lurid nature passed through her mind and out the other ear. Best not to fall into those habits too quickly or someone would likely notice. Her vocabulary was horrendously full of every curse word that had ever crossed a krogan's tongue.

In a bizarre sort of way it was a gift, however crude in nature. They had chosen to teach her out of their own amusement at the start and she'd proven adequate enough that they continued her 'education'. Whatever the rest of the galaxy might think about the species, she felt privileged to have known them. They had been good to her in their own way, thorny disposition and harsh temperament included.

Pilar ran a hand through her hair, scratching her scalp as she glanced at her bedside clock. It was already 1 in the afternoon. Her gaze drifted back to the disaster that was her window for a brief moment and she sighed. Today was supposed to be a pleasure day, not a 'fix the broken window' day.

She bit her lip indecisively as she considered her options. Then she shouldered her pack – a newer one than what she had arrived on the Citadel with, and headed out into the hall.

The window could wait.

She left a hastily scribbled note for Pallin on the counter and made for the door, remembering as an afterthought to lock it behind her. She hummed a tune to herself as she skipped down the hall.

* * *

It wasn't until late afternoon that the human officer who Pallin had placed in charge of the investigation of Pilar finally turned up in his office. The man was blissfully unaware of what awaited him, judging by the overly jubilant expression on his face. Before Pallin had a chance to say anything, he learned why.

"Need to get out more, Venari." The young man said, grinning foolishly – so typically human. "That girl was entertaining in the bazaar today. It would be a good culture study for you."

Pallin lifted his head and leaned back in his chair deliberately. Oh how he loathed to be called by his first name. "Am I to assume that you have failed in acquiring me any useful information through proper channels and therefore have resorted to extortion by employing sex?"

The man went as white as a sheet, his voice catching as he stammered for a reply, "N-no! That's not how it is, I swear!"

The turian jerked to his feet and planted his hands on his desk, "Then explain why you felt the need to 'take her out' rather than find the information I require appropriately!"

"I needed a photograph for a database search!" His officer whined defensively. "Things kind of took off from there I guess."

Pallin squinted, "And what did you find?"

The man quieted, his eyes searching the floor, "Nothing, _sir_." He grumbled, his tone boarding on insubordination. "There are no records of her existence anywhere, not even within the Alliance."

"I see." Pallin responded slowly and cast a scathing glance at the wall. He turned to his console then, rapidly surfing through screens of information, "I am sending a recall to the _Dauntless_. When they arrive you will meet them and question everyone on board about the girl. _Everyone._"

The officer eyes widened and he advanced a step. "You're not firing me?"

"Not _yet_." He snapped. "But you will not, under any circumstances, see her again, unless in a professional capacity. That includes forays into bazaar. Is that clear?"

The man nodded dejectedly, "Sir."

"You may go." Pallin returned shortly.

The officer was just turning to go when he stopped, his forehead furrowed in contemplation as he met his superior's gaze, "Do you intend to arrest her?"

Pallin's eyes flashed fiercely for an instant, "I have dismissed you, Peterson. Get out or I shall rethink your punishment."

Peterson hastened out of the office without another word.

As soon as the doors were closed, Pallin rested his head in his hands and sighed. He retrieved the locket that Pilar had given him that morning and examined it again. The two individuals pictured inside had been haunting him all morning, for they did not exist.

Or so the Universe would have him believe.

That meant sending a high level security request directly to earth. They were required to cooperate under the treaty agreement, but what he would get would be the bare bones documentation, if he got anything at all. It had the potential to draw unwanted attention from the Alliance as well.

But there was no other way around it. All or nothing, Pallin decided. She had given it to him freely, perhaps from the knowledge that he wouldn't find anything. He might have believed that too if it wasn't for the fact that she was obviously grieving over them.

Pilar was looking for her family and Pallin intended to find them.

* * *

What did a turian like? Pilar had pondered that question for the better part of an hour, past sundown and well into the closing of most bazaar shops. Was the giving and receiving of gifts even customary among their race?

Getting an outside opinion was out of the question as, short of asking another turian, it would be a useless endeavor, and she wasn't _that _desperate. Something would come to her, she decided, and continued perusing the stores that were still open. A few people recognize her and smiled in passing, but no one stopped to chat.

Her body was tired from earlier exertions and grew more so as the night drew on, but she was not giving up. Perseverance won out in the end and she found what she sought. The shop took up the last square of the street, two stories tall, and plain white like all the surrounding buildings. A neon sign out front read "Classical Music for the Old Fashioned".

Pilar grinned despite herself at the thought of Pallin's taste being considered "old fashioned". He would probably take offense to the suggestion, but then he seemed to be a walking contradiction on many accounts. She hoped that he would not take her supposition of his character as an insult for he did seem to dearly love music.

And music was what she had come for.

* * *

When Pallin returned that night Pilar was nowhere to be found. A note was waiting for him on the counter, written quickly judging by the jagged looking letters. He breezed over it and threw it away without a second glance.

Pallin was equal parts fury and curiosity at her absence. Peterson's mention of her presence in the bazaar had been bugging him all evening. What was she _doing _exactly and why? What sort of embarrassment could this potentially cost him?

These were just a few of the questions cycling through his brain as he poured himself a shot glass of liquor – something native to his own people. It was unbearably strong for other races. Even the Krogan shuddered under its effects, opting for something more enjoyable instead. Turians high resistance to radiation enabled them to swallow some rather pungent things.

One shot a night was generally enough to relax his nerves enough so that he could sleep. He never drank more than that, and rarely less.

With the newest addition to his life he might just start drinking two, but it was only a passing thought of dry humor. She had no papers, no ID or passport. Her presence on the citadel was illegal, but there still stood the chance that she had been forced against her will.

It was true that he had devices that were capable of verifying truth almost to 100 percent accuracy, but he could not force an answer. If he took her in now she likely would never say another word to him and that would get them nowhere. Their relationship was tenuous enough.

But how far was too far when it came to stretching the rules? For all practical purposes Pilar was under house arrest, which would excuse Pallin's keeping her. If he took her into custody, the Alliance would have jurisdiction over her.

In the end it was solely his call to make and sending her away got him nothing in the way of answers. No, he was not going to arrest her, much to his irritation at satisfying Officer Peterson's private desires. Pallin would keep her here where he could watch her.

* * *

She should have been back by now. It was the only thought present in Pilar's delerium as she curled on the bench and stared out over the water. A passerby might mistake her for dead were it not for the shallow, steady breath she exhaled or an occasional blink of her eyes.

Every muscle strained and shivered as she lay there, cold and in pain. It was her fault for leaving behind her last injection, never mind that she wasn't due for another week – she should have anticipated a relapse. She would have to break into the med labs much sooner than she planned at this rate.

Getting home was first priority tonight however, for even that seemed a daunting prospect under the current circumstances. A quick transit could take her most of the way, which would leave only a short distance to walk. Somehow she'd have to manage – she was not going to be found incapacitated.

Pilar gave it a few more minutes before gingerly testing her arms, and succeeded in sitting up. The short respite had done her good, but she still felt terribly weak. Her chest felt constricted, as if a lead weight was sitting on it, and too much exertion would send her into an endless coughing fit.

One slow, careful step at a time, she reminded herself as she stood on shaking limbs, and set off towards the nearest transit. Her mouth set in a grimace of concentration and she knew that tonight at least, she would make it.

* * *

Pallin had managed to defeat the computer at chess one time out of countless attempts before Pilar finally staggered through his door. As soon as he looked up she was collapsed on the floor, her face a pasty white as it leaned up against the wall, eyes half closed. He was on his feet instantly.

That movement seemed to spark life back into her for she shot off the wall and stood awkwardly to face him, blinking rapidly as she composed herself. "Sorry…for being late." She managed. "I…fell asleep."

The turian looked at her in alarm. "You are ill." He stated flatly. "Why have you not gotten treatment?"

Pilar glanced up only briefly from rummaging through her pack. She had the audacity to smile at him between wheezes, before replying, "It's nothing…really. I'll be fine…tomorrow." Then she revealed a small, black box tied in blue ribbon and held it out to him. "Here."

At first Pallin could only stare at the obnoxious thing in bewilderment and horror. Was she handing him a gift?! What nightmare had he gone to sleep to while playing too long and too hard at chess?

Her eyes bore into him hopefully though, demanding his attention, "It's for you." She murmured.

Pallin felt his chest tighten as an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of his stomach and he stared at her, lost between irritation and a shimmering of gratitude. She waited for him to respond, but he neither spoke nor moved to accept the gift. Her gaze became desperate then as she began to sway on her feet.

"Well," Pilar finally looked away, her cheeks gaining a trace of color, and she set the box on the glass coffee table. "If you don't want it I'll take it back."

Then she left, her hand bracing her against the wall as she approached her room and disappeared behind the sliding door.

Pallin was still staring after her minutes later. It was all very surreal in his memory, the rippling of exhaustion in her muscles as she moved and the paleness of her complexion – how she labored with every breath despite her attempts to conceal it. Then there was the gift, which had thrown him off so violently that he forgot all about dragging her to the nearest med lab.

Now it was too late. He wouldn't breach the sanctity of her room, regardless of how amiable she would probably be. It was a matter of principle – he was not her father or guardian. If she didn't want to go for a simple check up, he wouldn't make her

But she better not die in there.

That left the box sitting inconspicuously on the coffee table. He regarded it warily, as if it might sprout legs and attack. Pallin rarely bestowed gifts and never received them. His position was partly to blame for that, but it was never a matter of concern for him.

His first suspicion was of bribery of course, but he might have thought that about his own mother had she sent him something. It was his job to feel that way and Pilar had good reason to bribe, but she'd have to be an utter fool to think him so gullible. So he stopped himself for long enough to consider that maybe – just maybe – she had done it in a gesture of good faith.

Either way there was no harm in finding out what was in it.

Pallin picked the box up and went about slowly untying the ribbon. It popped open easily and inside rested a pearl colored data chip. He would have known it anywhere, but it still took a moment to register.

She had bought him music… What _kind _of music?

Pallin's nose twitched as he lifted the delicate chip up to eye level and inspected it. With today's tastes there was no knowing what sort of codswallop was on it. He was almost afraid to find out, if it wasn't for the fact that he gave her intelligence more credit than that.

There was only one way to know for sure. Pallin went to the computer on the wall and inserted the chip to peruse its contents.

Evidently, the girl's judgment was fairly sound. It was a conglomeration of piano pieces from earth, spanning over a time period of 200 years, all of them new to him. If the rest were on par with the first on the list, it would be an adequate addition to his collection.

He sat down after a moment with a book in his hands. Music was his guiltiest pleasure and he wondered absently why he had not felt apprehension at the girl's certain knowledge of his weakness. It would be painfully easy for her to exploit, yet she had not, nor had she pestered him about it.

She chose to give a gift of it instead.

Pallin was in the midst of flipping through the pages of his book in search of where he had last stopped when he was startled by a sudden and unexpected revelation; he would be very unhappy if she were to die, and not because of the paper work.

He cast a worried glance at her door and paused, debating. The words on the page made no sense to him with his mind elsewhere and he set the book aside. Perhaps checking on her would be prudent in light of her earlier condition.

That was all the convincing he needed. Pallin was up and knocking on her door in scarcely a few seconds. When there was no response he went inside.

The first thing he became aware of was that she had turned the light's motion sensors off. Her room remained dark even as he moved cautiously through it. The second thing he noticed was the sound of strong, steady breathing from the vicinity of her bed.

He noted as an afterthought that her window appeared to be broken as well.

There was more than enough confirmation here that she would be fine, and yet Pallin did not budge from where he stood. There was something on her bedside table – a vial. He moved despite himself and picked the item in question up even as the girl stirred mere feet from him. His eyes strayed to the pale wisps of hair that spread around her now that it was down.

She was smiling in her sleep.

Without warning a wave of nausea struck Pallin full force. He reeled from the bed in shock and drove the convulsion in his throat back down. Surely now was not his time? She was not even his species!

His hands began to shake unbidden, the vial momentarily forgotten, and he fled.

It wasn't until he'd reached the sanctuary of his own room that Pallin remembered the object still clenched in his hand. He had not yet overcome the reaction that had developed from seeing her at her most vulnerable, but he was lucid enough to recognize that what he held was something she had taken in some manner or form.

The pieces came together with sudden and startling clarity. Pallin's embarrassment turned to disappointed anger and it was all he could do not to shatter the vial against the wall.

It would have to be drugs. He had seen the effects of withdrawal on many and hers were not so unlike them. Drugs were extremely difficult to come by on the Citadel however, which begged to question how she'd gotten them and what variety they had been.

Pallin set the vial down and shook his head despondently. He would have thought she knew better, but then he knew so little about her and her life. Poverty and loneliness drove many to desperate measures and she had come from a desperate situation – of that he had no doubt.

He would have to verify this possibility first however. There was still a chance, minimal though it might be, that it was not what he suspected. Pallin fervently hoped that his suspicions were unfounded.

* * *

A single dark eye cracked open to a steady stream of sunlight and squinted before deft hands quickly summoned the blankets over a head of platinum hair and the squirming figure burrowed deeper within its cocoon.

Pilar lay there for a moment, contemplating. Last night had nearly been disastrous with her arriving at the apartment only in time to collapse practically at Pallin's feet. He would suspect something and that would bring further investigation. Her only consolation was the fact that he would never figure it out.

Still, she would have to tread more carefully.

Fingers and toes peeked out from under opposite ends of the blanket as Pilar stretched, releasing a long, drawn out sigh of satisfaction. She surfaced from the pool of fabric to greet the afternoon with a broad smile and bounded out of bed towards the door.

As for today, she would have all the pleasure she could afford while it was still available. Back to work tomorrow.

It was already 1:35 in the afternoon, but with a quick shower she figured to make the bazaar by 2:30. She never even thought to check whether Pallin had even touched the gift from the night before as she rounded the corner and headed straight for the bathroom. It was the furthest thing from her mind until she noticed the empty box lying open on the counter on her way to the door a short while later.

Seeing it there stopped her flat and she stared, disbelieving at first. So he had accepted it after all. She hadn't been convinced in the beginning that he would – a far better gift would've been a week's rent. Today's efforts might be enough, she hoped. Then she could give him something worthwhile.

But seeing the empty box lying there left her with a peculiar warmth, an inkling of hope that maybe he thought a sliver more of her than as just a nuisance. Even that small possibility brought her joy – she only hoped that she could return the favor for Pallin's sake, for he seemed to need it.

* * *

Pallin was taciturn on a good day. On a bad day his was genuinely grouchy and almost impossible to approach without having gone through the sensation of having your head pried from your shoulders and shoved down a trash compactor. Today was a horrendously bad day.

He had dropped off the vial found in Pilar's room that morning and stayed long enough to discover that whatever had been in it was unidentifiable by normal means. That had done nothing to improve his mood and he left in a whirl of frustration. The streets cleared before the broiling storm as he passed.

Those witnessing the event could guess as to why the turian executor had gone barmy, and many of them were half right. Mating periods were always difficult for a turian in a public setting. Certain senses were abnormally and embarrassingly heightened, chemical imbalances impaired judgment and thinking processes, and there was often a physical demand for action.

Which begged to question why this particular occasion had run so much more afoul of Pallin than in previous instances? It was no secret that it happened. Every species had its unique mating practices and turian's were both blessed and cursed with only two periods a year – blessed in that they didn't deal with it more often than that, and cursed because it was all the more obvious for it.

Pallin was known for his remarkable discipline. That it would affect him so now was peculiar, but there were extenuating circumstances.

There was a potential drug addict/drug trafficker living in his apartment, which would not do well for his spotless reputation. To make matters worse, the aforementioned drug addict was the instigator in his current emotional upheaval between maintaining proper conduct and his more basic, bodily instincts. He was no less shaken now than he had been last night when it had been brought to his attention most inappropriately.

_Madness! _If there were such a thing as hell, he was surely in it.

He could have grinded steel to dust with his teeth. Fortunately a guinea pig came along that afternoon for him to release his rage upon and none too soon. Even better, it was Officer Peterson. Pallin felt a surge of perverse delight that it would be this particular human he took out his frustrations on and calmly schooled his expression to that of a hunter receiving its prey.

"Peterson," He began, his voice drifting pleasantly through the air with an after taste of venom, "I trust you've kept your sexual apparatus to yourself as instructed, or have you come to beg for mercy? Do explain why you are skulking in my doorway."

The man stiffened, brow furrowing in confusion and fear. He blinked and shuffled his feet, unable to meet Pallin's steely gaze. "Uh, no sir," Peterson choked on his words, his face going crimson, "I mean, no sir, not here to beg for mercy! It's the Dauntless, sir."

Pallin felt something snap inside of him and a cold rush of apprehension trickled down his back. "Yes?" He beckoned sharply.

Peterson was shifting ever so carefully towards the door. He appeared to be on the verge of hyperventilation, "It's disappeared, sir. They lost contact last night. No one seems to know where it's gone."

The turian stared at him, through him, and burned holes into the wall behind Officer Peterson. Or so it might have felt for the poor soul squirming in his line of sight. It was a moment before Pallin could calm himself enough to formulate a response without yelling bloody murder into the man's face.

"S-sir?" Peterson interrupted, the lump in this throat bobbing up and down.

Pallin inhaled deeply, "Then find it! He snarled. "If you so much as show your face in my office before _then_, you are fired."

Peterson was only too happy to vacate the premises on that note.

That was it, Pallin thought. He needed to get some fresh air. Perhaps while he was at it he could investigate what Pilar was up to at the bazaar. It was possible she was using it as her outlet for drug trafficking, if that was indeed what she was hiding.

In his current frame of mind, he was willing to believe the worst in everybody.

* * *

He was baffled, to put it lightly. What he had been expected to find once he arrived at the bazaar and what played out in reality were polar opposite. The scene was almost ridiculous when considering what he had pegged the girl for. Grant it, Pallin was at the height of maliciousness with no small pity for her sake, as she was the one he chose to blame for his discomfort.

But this…this undermined everything he had determined. If only she'd been prancing about, swinging her hips in that deplorable fashion that human females so delighted in, he could have gone on happily despising her existence with every suspicion supported. There was no hip swinging, no crude dancing or enticing body movements, though she was apparently adept at gymnastics.

No, she appeared to be pulling large, squirming insects out of a ridiculous black hat and coins from behind ears. To make matters worse, she was surrounded by children of every age and species, and they were giggling merrily. She even had a bloody wand that she made disappear, to the delight of her audience.

Pallin was truly at a loss. There was a word in the back of his mind that matched the description, but it was one of those human practices that he scarcely paid any mind to. From what little he understood, it was a very humble profession, unless you enjoyed wrapping yourself in chains under water or before deadly machinery with only a set amount of time to free yourself.

Somehow, the girl laughing and spouting butterflies from her voluminous sleeves didn't strike him as that sort.

Then she noticed him and stopped, forgetting whatever sleight of hand she had prepared, and smiled uncertainly at him. Pallin wanted to run – ever muscle in his body screamed that he turn and flee, but he could not. He just looked back at her blankly while a battle to maintain control of his faculties raged within him, oblivious to the casual observer.

He didn't see her move. Her eyes, shining as they did now with the energy and charisma of youth, were all that he saw. She didn't seem to notice his helpless stare, or made not to anyway, and the next thing he knew there was a white dove in his hands, peering up at him curiously.

It wasn't until he saw the silken handkerchief that he assumed she must have made it magically appear, which would explain the applause from the children. There was even a small gathering of adults now, waiting to see what she would do next.

Pallin was planted firmly where he stood, too afraid to move and draw attention, but even more afraid of what she was inadvertently doing to him.

Pilar approached hesitantly, as if waiting herself for him to bolt and ruin whatever trick she had in place. When he did not she resumed her course until she was right in front of him. She bit her lip, blushing as she brandished the red handkerchief in trembling fingers, to rest lightly over the bird still perched in Pallin's hands.

Even feeling the weight of the dove and knowing that she must lift it off somehow, concealing it within the kerchief and making it appear elsewhere, he was not prepared for what happened. As soon as she lifted the kerchief the bird was gone and in its place was an enormous red rose.

She turned abruptly away, the dove vanished to who knows where and the magic wand miraculously back, twirling in her hand. The show continued, though it was now lost on him as he glared down at the object she had left him. He should have crushed it, but for the fact that no one would make any connection between them, he did not. Roses were rare and unnaturally beautiful.

Pallin found the nearest girl child and gave the flower to her, much to her delight. Then he spun sharply on his heel and left, his mind a tumult of conflicting thoughts and feelings. He had wanted something to be wrong with what he found, but all he could think…

He stopped himself before the traitorous thought could finish itself.

The results from the empty vial would be coming in within the next day or two. Only then could he be sure. As for tonight, perhaps he would try his luck at chess and see if he could earn himself a question.

* * *

Pilar didn't know whether to be ecstatic or horrified after the events that afternoon. The rose was a part of the routine, but for her to have given it to Pallin – had she lost her mind?! His timing was impeccable though and his attention rapt. She hadn't known how else to respond without appearing too embarrassed before the crowd.

By integrating him into her performance, Pilar had hoped to divert the focus to the trick rather than the bizarre exchange between them. The crowed found it amusing she supposed. Anyone present above the age of 20 was probably familiarized with Pallin's social tendencies, or lack thereof. His name and reputation were well circulated throughout the Citadel.

It would not do for people to postulate over their relationship. Even Pilar could not answer that one, nor did she care to try at that moment. The diversion was as much for her sake as it was his. She didn't expect to see him there and the shock had discombobulated her as much as the almost feral gleam in his eyes – she'd grabbed for the first thing that came to mind and that was the dove.

She didn't expect him to keep the flower, which caused her a pang of regret for sacrificing it in such a way, but he hadn't destroyed it. Pallin couldn't have bestowed it on a more grateful subject either. The girl was positively taken with it.

But his behavior caused Pilar disquiet for the remainder of the day.

Would he be angry with her? His expression wasn't precisely angry at the time, but it had been intense and unwavering in such a way that made her uneasy. She had never seen him look that way before and she had been more forward than she ever intended to be.

So it was that Pilar anticipated home with no small amount of trepidation at what might await her come evening.

* * *

Pallin barely registered returning to his office following the incident, such was his daze upon departing the bazaar and its magician. The word came to him out of nowhere, but he didn't think twice about it as he settled back at his desk. He leaned forward to rest his head in his hands, clenching his eyes shut tiredly.

It wasn't long after that when a news feed reached his office reporting the latest Spectre indoctrination. Pallin lifted his gaze slowly at the screen of his console and sighed. The humans had finally done it – hardly a surprise to him, but a disappointment nonetheless.

He read the notice, storing the information for later use, and resumed his work with renewed zeal. His job became more difficult with each passing day it seemed. It was in part to blame on the recent rumors of active Geth in the surrounding areas, none of which helped to ease his concerns of what lay in store for everyone. His position did not deal with those matters beyond this regent however, and so he could not but sit and watch from afar.

Pallin was in the process of locking up for the night when another message came through. It was from the earth embassies in response to his request from yesterday. A thrill of anticipation brought the turian reeling back to his chair.

There was a good chance that nothing of value would be in the message, but Pallin clung to hope fiercely. His perseverance did not go unanswered it seemed, for what looked back at him from the screen were the complete files on the two people in question, as well as several news articles, detailing the event of their deaths.

Earth's unusual forthrightness stunned him, but he scarcely had time to ponder that fact before his attention was thoroughly diverted.

It was the first newspaper clipping – the caption and then the detail of a missing daughter with a date that simply did not compute. The room suddenly felt bereft of oxygen and warmth as Pallin stared at the screen, brooding.

_ David and Sarah __Rose__nburg__h__, two of earth's most renowned scientists, found murdered __March__ 20th, __2158. They are survived by their daughter, __Pilar__ Rosenburgh__ born May 16__th__, 2135, though her __current whereabouts are unknown_

_ Further information surrounding the vicious__ attack is being kept under confidential file by the Alliance Military. No word on whether the attacker, or attackers, has been apprehended. _

Pilar's parents had died 25 years ago, which would seem to put Pilar's age at a few years shy of 50. Only she was most definitely not fifty by any stretch of the imagination. That could only mean one of two things; that she had found a miraculous youth maintaining serum, or that she had been put in cryo sleep. The former he disregarded at first for the mere fact that such a serum was not possible.

She was clearly uncertain and unfamiliar with her surroundings, enough so that Pallin suspected she hadn't known much of this era until a short time ago. Not to mention that a successful aging solution would have made her millions and would be on the market everywhere. Yet, there was the empty vial to consider. What _had_ been in it?

That effectively threw a wrench into Pallin's reasoning and he sat back, scowling at his console.

It was well after 10 pm when he finally finished reading all the information provided to him – a generous amount, considering who and what he was dealing with. The more he found out, the less he understood.

The death of Pilar's parents had never been resolved and the girl never found. Even more curious was the last document included in the message – a death certificate for the girl, dated half a year prior to her parent's murders. But the first article clearly stated that her whereabouts were unknown at the time of her parent's deaths, not that she was dead also.

Someone had failed to cover their tracks properly.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Holy wow, half the stuff that came out of this chapter happened on a whim. I'm shocked, but happily so. I hope it did the same for those of you reading. Thanks for the feedback.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Shades of Night**

_Chapter 4_

* * *

Pallin felt an unusual chill in the air coming home – a chill that_ only_ he could feel. The streets were dark and empty, in some ways a reflection of himself. He passed the gardens that his apartment overlooked without so much as a glance in that direction though there were moon-flies flitting about amongst the leaves. They followed along after him, perhaps out of idle curiosity.

There was only one thing on the turian's mind however and it was a broiling miasma of confusion and frustration. He had made a mistake.

It was maddening when he considered how unwittingly he'd thrown himself into this situation. He could have easily avoided it the very first day when Pilar had walked into his office asking for help. Right then he could have – should have — sent her away. Instead he had taken pity on her, and just look where it had gotten him

The events surrounding the murder of her parents and her apparent disappearance were inconsequential to him and Citadel space. They had taken place at a time when humans were barely aware of the rest of the Universe, therefore this was strictly under Alliance Military jurisdiction.

So why had he not turned her in yet? Why was he so adamant to solve the mystery himself? It was absurd on enough levels that Pallin was beginning to question his own sanity.

_Am I really that bored?_

He could demand answers from her on the pretense that she had led him into this mystery and owed him that much, but he was wary of pressuring her too far. Telling her about her parents did not rate at the top of his list of things he most wanted to do either. It was not time yet, nor would it ever be he supposed, from her perspective, but he had the sneaking suspicion she already knew.

Pilar was not responsible for her parent's death, of that he was certain. The mere fact that she had led him straight to them would seem to contradict such an idea. It wouldn't have been in her favor for one thing, and for another he was not even sure she was out of sleep at the time.

Reading between the lines Pallin would guess that the first report placing Pilar's disappearance 6 months prior to her parent's deaths was the correct one. Furthermore, he suspected that it was her parents who had put her in the cryo sleep, which would explain why she had been lost in space for 25 years. They might have been the only ones who knew of her whereabouts.

That left the question which burned in his skull now. _Why?_

Something was driving her. She could be running from whatever had resulted in her parent's murder, but after so many years? The culprit may very well be dead by now. Or was she simply finding her way back into life now that she was free of whatever had bound her before?

Pallin's head throbbed from the overabundance of information swirling in his brain. It was not unusual in his line of work for solutions to yield more questions than they answered, but this was getting excessive. There was potential for disaster buried in the murk of her past too, a kind that set him on edge.

If he was smart he would throw her to the Alliance and say good riddance. It was not his problem – it had nothing to do with him or his job. Getting rid of her would solve all of his problems in one fell swoop.

But he didn't want to. A part of him was committed, for good or ill. He had delved this far into her history and now he was loath to turn back. If his instincts were sound then there was more to this story than what appeared at face value, in which case it _would_ be his job to pursue. One could never trust the dealings of humans, even 25 year old dealings. He would be more than happy to uncover some dirt on the Alliance and rub it in their obtrusive noses. It would positively make his day, possibly even his life.

Only there was another reason for his hesitance in letting her go, which succinctly squelched all pleasure in the idea. That she meant anything to him all was ridiculous. She couldn't be trusted, and he never made friends with someone who couldn't be trusted.

Pallin didn't make friends with people he _could _trust either, but he enjoyed her company in a very convoluted, contradictory sort of way.

Which reminded him – he would have to pay a visit to Loc tomorrow. He should have done it already, but not wanting word to spread too quickly, had staved off the impulse. The word was out now however and Pallin needed information: Loc was always a useful source of information.

The turian checked into the apartment at eleven. The lights sprang to life, illuminating the room as he stepped inside and he stopped short at the sight which met him in the living room. Something stirred within him, turning his blood hot, and he quaked at the girl who was ensconced inhis chair, fast asleep.

A book was draped across her knees as she curled into the seat, hair sprawled across one arm of the chair as her legs dangled over the opposite arm. On the coffee table was the chess set with all of its pieces perched neatly upon the squares, untouched. An empty mug sat beside it.

All of Pallin's willpower could not turn him past her right then, not when he was so free to watch her. She was like a gravitational force drawing him towards the chair against his will. For a split second he wondered at how her hair might feel, a thought that he never would've fathomed before her coming. It struck him that she was as alien to him as he was to her – a creature so different, yet exotic that he couldn't help his curiosity.

He _wanted _to touch her hair, to know what those silken strands would be like running through his hand. Human hair…was something truly unique and unequaled throughout the rest of space.

It was only then that Pallin caught himself and jerked back, having come far closer to realizing his innate desire than was decent. He bit back a snarl and looked away sharply; looked away, but did not leave. Blast his body for being so foolishly misguided.

She had failed to acquire a blanket he noted from the corners of his eyes. Or maybe it was that she just fell asleep waiting for him to come home.

The turian scoffed and eyed the girl reproachfully, daring her to wake up and explain why she was sleeping in the living room as opposed to her room, which proper conduct dictated. She was wearing that outfit again – a close fitting shirt with short sleeves and shorts; skin everywhere.

Her eyes opened suddenly and Pallin recoiled, stiffening as dark eyes bore into him bewildered. She squinted, adjusting to the light and yawned. He hastily averted his gaze and considered escaping to his room before she had time to speak.

"You're home." Pilar murmured belatedly and unraveled herself from the chair. The motion was neat and precise, mesmerizing. "I was starting to worry."

Pallin grunted, "Oh?" He drawled, "You seemed quite at your leisure when I arrived."

The girl ducked her head away as a blush crept up her throat. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." She murmured and glanced up at him tentatively. "I hope you're not angry for this afternoon. It wasn't…I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that."

Pallin straightened in mild surprise. It hadn't even crossed his mind actually. He had been too preoccupied with the startling news of her family history. "No." He said with some reluctance, "I've had more pressing matters on my mind than your paltry little tricks."

Her stunned expression seemed chiseled of stone and for a delayed moment she didn't move, as if unsure of what she'd heard. Then she blinked, her eyes shimmering moistly under the light. Nothing escaped, but there was no missing the stricken reflection.

Throwing barbed comments was what Pallin did best and it had seemed necessary to gloss over the fact that he really wasn't as bothered by this afternoon as much as he should be. He had meant to hurt and he had succeeded marvelously, but the sensation afterwards was not satisfactory. On the contrary he wanted to hit himself.

"Oh…" Her voice shook, but she made a brittle smile and laughed. The sound was wrenching to Pallin's ears. "I know it's not much…"

Her hands moved with such swift and deliberate agility that Pallin had to look twice before he realized what had happened. Something soft was forcibly shoved into his hand and he stared, bewildered, at the object in question. Pilar whirled away dramatically and plopped herself down on the floor across the table from his chair with an exaggerated thud.

Oh she was good…_Very good, indeed, _Pallin grudgingly admitted to himself as his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

He couldn't imagine where from she had conjured the velvet drawstring bag. There was no place on her person that he could see where one might store such an awkward thing out of sight, and yet she had. It felt heavy in his hand and there was a metallic clatter from within as he shifted its contents.

Pallin looked at her pointedly, but Pilar had trained her eyes on the chessboard, shoulders squared stiffly and her jaw set as she played the computer. She must have known or felt that he was watching her however for she suddenly spoke.

"That is from today." She stated and did not look up. "All my wages have been transferred directly from my account to yours also. It should be enough to pay off my debt to this point…if not, let me know."

The turian scowled. They hadn't even discussed matters of payment yet. Who was she to determine the price? He would have to check later. A notice would've been sent to his home console.

"Very well." He replied curtly and sat down in the chair she had previously occupied. An unfamiliar scent engulfed him there and he stiffened, his nose twitching. It was…fruit like – something he was not familiar with, but the underlying scent was undeniably her.

It made his skin shiver.

Pilar was sitting cross-legged, her elbow propped against one knee as she reclined her head against her hand. Her eyes flashed towards him inquisitively. "A game?" She lifted a dubious brow.

He said nothing, but began to methodically replace the pieces in their respective positions. When all was in its place and the computer was set, Pallin lifted his head expectantly. His eyes never left her as she straightened. She hesitated, sensing something amiss.

There was no doubting Pallin's intent. He wanted answers and he was going to get them.

Pilar's lips curved into an uncertain smile and whatever animosity she might have been harboring towards him from what he had said earlier ebbed away. She had thoroughly bested him in that respect anyhow, and she knew it regardless of whether he admitted it openly. There was no missing the tender glow of pride that she kept reigned at a humble distance. After all, he probably deserved it.

The turian couldn't help but marvel and the wide range of expression that a human possessed, whereas his species were like stone. He had always considered it a blessing for it shielded emotion from the prying eyes of others, and yet he envied her that she could express so much more than he.

There were many humans he had known with hard, unyielding faces. They were the kind that Pallin despised, but Pilar's was always a myriad of emotions on display for all to see and share. It was comforting in some respects for she did not hide her feelings, nor did she act upon them.

Together they were a blessing.

She deftly spun the board around so that the black pieces were on her side and the white on his. Her gaze fluttered briefly in his direction, "You go first – I've always preferred the dark pieces anyhow."

Pallin did not wait and was soon sitting back, watching her studiously as she prepared to retaliate.

A computer was always difficult to master at games because it lacked the weaknesses that all living breathing subjects had, but a person – especially human, was easy prey. Few had schooled their emotions well enough to hide their feelings. Pilar was a wealth of information with every action down to the most minute.

It was not very far into the game when Pilar's resolve finally broke and she bit her lip, contemplating the game with lackluster enthusiasm. Her eyes darted towards him. "What's it like…" she began, "—on your planet?"

Pallin glanced at her in surprise, "You will have to be more specific." He said. "What exactly do you want to know?"

Pilar tilted her head slightly to one side, "I don't know. Everything I guess. I've heard that turians are allergic to the foods that most other species consume, human included. Is that really true?"

He nodded. "There are many factors involved, but yes, it's true. The reaction varies from one turain to the next, much like it does in humans, but on a more extreme scale. Some are affected severely while others show no symptoms at all – it will simply pass through their system. It can depend on the type of food as well."

She frowned, concerned, "But...is it deadly?"

"It can be." Pallin replied. "But with the advancements of today's medicine it is usually non lethal."

"That must be troublesome though." Pilar shook her head. "Couldn't someone deliberately poison you without your knowing?"

Pallin's gaze darkened a fraction.

"Wait, don't tell me," She held up her hand and grimaced a shade of green. There was a mischievous glint to her eyes however that belied her true intent. "You eat something slimy and wiggly that no one could possibly mistake for human food, right?"

He might have been insulted if she weren't so terribly naïve and curious. "No actually. Are you going to move, or is this an interrogation?"

She started and reached for one of her knights, making a face as she placed it, "I'm not interrogating you. I just want to know. Is that so bad?"

Pallin grunted and considered her move distastefully. "That depends on your point of view."

"What _do_ you eat?" Pilar asked, ignoring him. "I mean, are there things on your planet similar to ours? Or is it completely different? Are there giant cockroaches?"

She grinned, eyes twinkling with mirth that he didn't at first comprehend. Pallin felt his throat tighten and he sucked in sharply. What was_ with _her? He would've been grateful that her thoughts were so preoccupied from the game, giving him the advantage, if not for the fact that she was so thoroughly distracting him.

Pilar laughed softly at his expression, though he couldn't fathom why. Did he look funny? "Sorry. It's kind of a joke on earth…people always say that cockroaches will be the last standing. They persistent little buggers – probably wouldn't bat an eyelash at radiation poisoning."

"Cockroaches?" Pallin repeated. He reached for a bishop, setting his trap. It was weak, but he only intended to test her.

"We could give you some." She suggested. "They'd probably feel right at home."

The turian scowled at her pointedly, "From my limited knowledge, they are a nettlesome little insect that would cause more trouble than good."

"It was a joke." Pilar answered and sighed. "I wouldn't inflict cockroaches on anyone. They're bad enough at home. Can you imagine giant cockroaches though? That would be a nightmare."

"Indeed. We have no giant cockroaches." He verified needlessly. "For which I am grateful. The Universe is difficult enough with one terrorist bug."

Pilar paused, growing slightly pale, "One?"

Pallin regarded her smoothly, "Surely you have been informed of the rackni wars? They came perilously close to exterminating us."

She shook her head deliberately with a hint of desperation. "I don't like bugs." Her voice came out in a queer pitch. "Can't understand why someone would want to rename spider solitaire after a bug."

"Possibly because it was an idea that all of citadel space could relate to." He supplied. "You approve of spiders, but not bugs?"

"I do." Pilar replied firmly and moved another piece. She had not fallen for the trap after all. It was not surprising as she far outmatched him in experience, but her mind was not militarily inclined as his had been trained.

Pallin breathed out his nose in irritation. "How odd."

"Spiders _eat _bugs." She reminded him. "I practically worship them."

The girl was chewing her lip rather vigorously, Pallin noted, enough that he considered ordering her to stop before she bled herself. What was she up to now? Was her mind on the game or another question? She was far too adept at appearing nonchalant while maintaining her play.

"We do have those on a much larger scale." Pallin offered, dragging her attention away. _Good._

"Giant spiders?" Pilar's eyes widened and brightened at the same time. "If they're anything like our spiders their webbing must be amazing. Do you use it for anything? I bet you could make a commodity out of that."

"It is too tricky a business to be very profitable." He returned bluntly. "The process of removing its highly adhering properties is expensive and spiders are not especially accommodating when it comes to those stealing their nests."

"I suppose it would be dangerous." She conceded. "How big are they?"

Pallin groaned inwardly, "Perhaps the size of a large dog, but that is not what makes them formidable. They have one of the deadliest poisons in the universe. A bite from one would kill most within seconds."

"Do they give you much trouble?" She asked, stopping everything to stare at him anxiously.

"They are solitary creatures and there is plenty to eat without dealing with more troublesome species such as ourselves." He explained. "Our weapons could decimate them if we chose."

Ah,_ there_ was a move he could use. She would be in danger soon.

Pilar followed the motion of his hand with growing concern. "Well, I'm glad you haven't." She murmured. "Was it difficult evolving when you had to compete with something like that?"

"They are not very mobile creatures, not like they would be in your ecosystem where they are small enough that their ungainly legs are more of an asset than a hindrance."Pallin replied. "A turian has agility and quickness that most two legged creatures do not, and we have a certain amount of resistance to their venom."

The girl nodded, understanding. "I bet you can jump twice as high too."

Pallin cleared his throat and tried to focus himself back on the task at hand and _not _her endless chattering. Even if is was mildly amusing. "It is our light bone structure and wiry musculature that enables us to do so, nothing more."

"Oh!" Pilar exclaimed. "I thought turians had an exoskeleton."

He blinked, her rapt attention breaching on unnerving. "No, the outer layer is merely a shield against radiation, not a physical barrier. Our skin is what you might call leathery – only a turian's face is armored."

"Is it rough?" She asked and there was no doubting what she was referring to as her eyes followed along the angular shapes of his head. There was an intent gleam there that disturbed him.

Pallin shifted nervously. She certainly wasn't bashful. Judging by the twitch of her fingers she would have gladly accepted an invitation to touch him.

An invitation he mostly certainly would not ever give.

There was a tingling under his skin that shouldn't have been. "Yes." He muttered impatiently.

Pilar quieted then and resumed the game. The sudden silence was even more unnerving than the line of her questioning had taken. Pallin hadn't realized just how relaxing conversation was, probably because he rarely engaged in such a thing. That was until she began broaching the subject of his physical make up – that was a daunting prospect in under any circumstances.

Now she was too silent, too absorbed, and it was not in the game. She had something on her mind, but was afraid of asking perhaps. She placed her bishop on the attack, just as he had hoped she would.

"So if you don't eat slimy, wiggling things, what sorts of things do turians eat?" Pilar continued and regarded him openly.

She was glowing again and he couldn't fathom why. Did she so crave the attention of others?

"We are primarily carnivores." Pallin returned and he was surprised at how smoothly he settled back into the role of lecturer. "But over time we have developed a taste for some fruits and grains. Our foods are not so unlike your own, but the genetic makeup of our planet is very different due to the high levels of radiation. We cannot handle the typical amino acids found in the foods that humans depend on so greatly to sustain them."

Pilar stretched her legs out to the side as she gazed at the board and waited for his move, "Is it hard living in a more temperate atmosphere like on the citadel?"

The turian was momentarily speechless. He had caught the seemingly harmless movement, her legs sprawling across his floor, and found himself transfixed by it. Then he remembered himself and jerked his attention back to her face, which wasn't much of an improvement for his already fragile state of mind.

"No, but we are adverse to extreme temperatures." He returned and glued his eyes to the black and white squares. One could go mad staring at them too intently. "Especially cold."

She made a sound, like a whimsical hum. "You wouldn't have liked where I grew up then."

Pallin grimaced as a question leaped to the forefront of his mind. Where she grew up was years in the past when she appeared scarcely more than young woman now. How might her home have altered in that time? Probably not in ways she would approve of.

"And what is your home like?" He drew out slowly.

"Mountains and trees." She murmured, her hand hovering over the pieces indecisively. "But that was a long time ago."

"Forty years is a long time indeed." Pallin replied and pretended not to notice her hand's sudden flinch or the jerk of her head. He met her penetrating stare with calm detachment, waiting greedily for what she would say.

Pilar shivered and moved a knight into the wrong place. He had successfully ruffled her feathers enough that she was no longer thinking as she should. This was going to be easy.

Her skin became taught over the delicate bones in her face, creating a sterner, harsher expression than he thought possible of her. It occurred to him belatedly that perhaps ruffling her feathers wasn't the best idea. She was recovering rather furiously.

"I knew my parents were dead." She announced and stared down at the pieces, a shudder rolling down her spin. Her knight would be taken, but she was not lying down yet. A spark had kindled inside of her. "I was hoping you would tell me why."

Well, he'd stepped himself into that one. He removed the knight piece enthusiastically, but couldn't help feeling like he was on the business end of the conversation. Instead of one battle he was fighting two and the score was split fifty-fifty.

"They were murdered." Pallin supplied evenly.

Pilar swallowed hard, her eyes glistening brighter than before. She released a trembling sigh and examined the floor with false intensity. "And no one ever found the ones responsible, did they?"

His eyes narrowed, "No."

She met his gaze and held it, her expression softening. "Thank you…for finding them. I'm surprised you succeeded." Her hand moved with calculative intent and caught him by surprise. "It has been a long time."

Pallin had trouble controlling his temper. She ignored what she knew he would demand to know and feigned appreciation for his efforts. Foolish, irritating girl! He would beat her at this game if it was the last thing he did – he _would _know what she kept from him.

Piilar caught that predatory gleam and frowned somberly. "Please don't look at me that way." She said and there was something in her voice that made him halt. It was the weariness of someone who had been at the brunt of such an attack far too often – someone pained.

Never once had Pallin ever felt an iota of guilt over doing his job – he had faced many and struck them down without remorse to achieve his goal. That she would dredge such an emotion from him right now over something as trifling as a look was preposterous and infuriating. He wanted to snarl in frustration, but couldn't, or wouldn't.

Instead he lifted the queen off the board, placing her carefully, and bided his time for victory. He would have his satisfaction.

Pilar's brow wrinkled as she witnessed the move and her countenance darkened. Minutes passed of nothing but her unrelenting concentration on the board, but try as she might her optimism was faltering. He had cornered her and she knew it.

The atmosphere of the room had shifted drastically into a tense silence.

When she finally reached across the board, placing a lonely bishop, she sat back and her shoulders sagged as if in relief. She held her breath for what he would do next, hoping that he would miss what she intended, but Pallin did not. He had considered every detail of the board and was ready when she chose her path.

It took three moves to finish her. His face tightened in what might have been construed as a smirk if someone knew what to look for. A lonely, echoing quiet suffocated the room and he sat back with unrestrained pleasure over her defeat. No, Pallin most certainly didn't like to lose

Pilar gasped, "How—" Her eyes burned with indignation as they flickered towards him. She sat back from the table with a an animated moan and a subtly muttered curse of krogan origin.

"It seems I have an aptitude for your game." Pallin answered her unfinished question with deliberate coolness.

"I should've known." She said, but there was something in the way she glanced at him then, almost like admiration. That faint sparkle of wonder ensnared him for long enough that he had forgotten the game entirely.

Then it was gone. Every muscle in her body was tightly drawn and she sat rigid, like a tree; unmoving but malleable, waiting.

_Now for a question…but which question? _

Pallin had been so sure before of what he would ask, and yet now that he was faced with the choice he hesitated. He wanted to know why she was in the cryo sleep, but was it the most pressing matter? Was it the quickest route to discovering what he needed to know?

There was the disappearance of the _Dauntless_ to consider, but he was trusting, perhaps misguidedly, in his officer to discover why. Pallin was reluctant to waste his question on a thing that could be solved by other means.

He may have beaten her this time, but she would not be so easy when they next played.

"Why did your parents put you in a cryo sleep 25 years ago?" It was what he most desired to know and the words simply jumped out of his mouth before he could stop them. There was no helping it now.

Her head shot up so fast he marveled that she didn't get whiplash from it. She gaped at him, lips parting wordlessly in a sharp intake of air. Fear and horror flashed across her face.

"But…how can you…it doesn't matter!" Pilar cried and straightened, tucking her knees beneath her as she pleaded. "It's not even important!"

Pallin reared up swiftly, his hands gripping the table top to support him as he leaned towards her and spoke sharply, "You gave me a question and I have asked it! Are you to renege on your end of the bargain? I will not hesitate to draw an answer by less agreeable means if it is necessary."

Pilar flinched, bowing her head in refusal to look at him. Her hands wrung the edge of her shirt relentlessly. "It was for my protection." She whispered.

"Protection from _what_?" He pressed.

Her eyes hardened slightly and she glowered back at him, "That's two questions."

The turian stood to his full height and looked down his nose at her, rage boiling behind his eyes. This did not suit him. "Would you prefer that I turn you in to be interrogated?" He suggested icily. "I can arrange it."

Pilar jumped to her feet then, her hands clenched at her sides in challenge. She may have been shorter than he, but it didn't deter her in the slightest. "That isn't fair!" She exclaimed furiously. "You agreed to the terms also! Are you honorable or are you not?"

Pallin snarled unintelligibly before spinning sharply away from her. What right had she to question his honor? His, which was infallible! And yet she had pushed him to the point of compromising it.

"It's not important." There was that plea again, earnest and unsettling.

He looked back at her hard, "If it's not, then why protect it?"

Skies above, she was crying! There were many things that Pallin had achieved over the years, but he could not recall having reduced a human girl to tears. He wasn't particularly happy about adding it to his list of accomplishments either. Not where this particular girl was concerned.

Humans…they were so fragile.

Pilar hastily wiped her eyes, as if having heard his thoughts and she sniffled. "Because…it's just not." She insisted and her brow furrowed stubbornly. "Not important to _you_ at any rate"

What in man's hell was that supposed to mean? "I'll be the judge of that."

"No." She stated, her lips a thin line of resistance.

Pallin advanced upon her until the girl's back hit the wall behind her, but she didn't cower. She tilted her chin up, her jaw set determinedly. The turian froze, realizing too late that their proximity had become intimately closer.

His stomach clenched again, violently, and he had to wrench his gaze away, forgetting the intended threat that had waited at the edge of his tong. Her scent assaulted his senses, clouding his brain and he couldn't think. It was a mistake to come so near the object of his body's carnality, for she had triggered it.

It was painful to resist when brought upon by another being.

How long ago had it been, the last time that Pallin had been launched into his reproductive period by an independent body? He could not remember when, but he knew it had been deeply unpleasant. Normally the body followed a cycle, but on rare occasions one encountered what some called 'the perfect breed', an ideal mate. In such a case the effects were far more potent than during that of a regular cycle, and controlling it was agony in itself.

In short, it was much akin to having ones head beaten repeatedly with a blunt object. It was so mind numbing that he barely registered her voice, though she stood but a few inches away. He couldn't make out what she said.

There was a short pause wherein she said nothing, but he was very conscious of her eyes on him.

"Venari…?"

Pallin started so violently from his trance that the girl jumped. Unfortunately she was as far back against the wall as she could go and merely remained in place. She considered him with wide, yet curious eyes.

_How? How had she known his name?_ He was stuck between glaring accusingly and blinking in bewilderment. His condition was still ailing him enough that even that was a difficult task.

"Are you alright?"

_A human…why a human? More importantly, why him?!_

He felt it almost instantly and though fighting the urge to jerk away, the instantaneous calming of his nerves held him in place. It was like the brush of a feather against his cheek, so faint was her touch to the armor that covered his face, but it was enough to send shivers down his spine. When he looked down at her he found that he could not speak.

"Come on." Pilar smiled wistfully, grasping his hand and though it was strange to hers, she didn't hesitate. Her fingers wove through his two and one thumb as she lead him down the hall to his room.

By then Pallin had resumed some minor control of his faculties and managed to stop, pulling her up short. She glanced over her shoulder questioningly.

"I am fine." He intoned gruffly, but failed to extricate his hand from hers. It calmed him, kept him sane.

From her expression he gathered she wasn't buying into it in the least bit. Her cheeks took on a rosy hew as she opened her mouth to speak again, "Is there something you can take? A calming draught of some kind maybe?"

Pallin bared his teeth furiously. What did she know of such things?! "I don't have anything on hand."

Impossible…surely she cannot know?

Pilar nodded, "Alright. Then tell me what it is you need and I'll get it for you."

"Tonight?" The turian repeated incredulously. Did she have any idea the implications one might draw from a human girl buying turian remedies for this particular…ailment? When taking into consideration that she should have no idea whatsoever of what that ailment was, then no, of course not. This was foolish beyond all the follies of his youth.

She leveled him with a chastising frown, "Of course. You're not getting any better."

He ran his free hand over his head in exasperation. This couldn't be happening, to him of all the turians in the universe…him. Clearly he'd been resting on his laurels for too long.

"Let me help." Pilar implored gently. "I don't mind."

Pallin abruptly pulled his hand from hers and opened his door. "Wait here." He called and disappeared within.

When he emerged a short while later he had a folded piece of note paper, which he promptly handed to her. "Give this to the vendor. They'll know what to do."

The girl nodded resolutely. "I'll be back as soon as I can." She took off down the hall at a run, grabbing her bag on the way out.

Pallin released a groan as he planted one hand against the wall of the hall to brace himself. He would have to ask Loc about this, assuming he could even work up the courage to ask a question of such personal nature. It was possible to convey it in such a way that his friend would not make an immediate connection; possible, but extremely unlikely where Loc was concerned.

Loc was his best option where subtlety was concerned however. What was another bruising to his already ravaged dignity?

A loud, crunching impact could be heard resonating through the apartment as Pallin's fist connected with the wall, living a good sized dent and cracking the once perfect paneling. He growled at the base of his throat and struck the wall again for good measure. If there had been something within reach he would have delighted in throwing it.

_Foolish! _

* * *

Never in a million years did it occur to Pilar that her lessons in alien physiology, or rather sexology, would come into practical use. She seriously doubted that her krogan teachers had intending anything more by it than entertainment from her embarrassment. Really, she shouldn't even _know _about the sexual practices of turians because it really wasn't her business.

That was embarrassing in its own right, but to be backed up against a wall by a very imposing, very aggravated turian and to recognize the symptoms of one under that kind of influence? That was plain horrifying, for him more than anyone because she _shouldn't have known_. There was no doubt about it however, from the moment she touched him she had known. The reaction had been instant, just as the krogans had described in not so endearing terms.

Pilar put some distance between her and the apartment before she risked stopping to catch her bearings. She lolled her head back against the wall, her eyes closing, and took deep breaths, letting them out slowly. If not for the fact that she had another reason for leaving the apartment so late, she wouldn't have risked her knowledge to him, but he was so muddled that she doubted he noticed.

The whole thing was just bizarre, not to mention confusing. Had they mentioned such occurrences where one species was triggered by another like that? Pilar didn't know how it was possible, but the universe was full of mysteries. That one such as Pallin would fall victim to it though, and over her! That was simply mind-boggling…and utterly romantic.

How does one feel about that anyway? How did _she _feel about it?

_He's had me since the first day when I heard his voice…_

That wasn't as difficult to determine as it should have been she supposed, but it was also terrifying. Pilar never would've have imagined becoming attached to someone during her time her, let alone one such as Pallin attaching himself to her. She hoped, fervently, that he would push her away.

But then another part of her selfishly wished he wouldn't, regardless of the consequences.

Pilar opened her eyes and gazed down the empty hall, feeling decidedly hopeless inside. She could have laughed and cried at the same time, and for so many reasons.

It was turning out to be a very emotionally exhausting night.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I am so dreadfully sorry for taking so long. I don't do it on purpose. I'm working on two other writing projects besides this one though (one of which is almost at an end) and fell out of touch with this. I _hate _it when this happens because having to wait this long for an update sucks for you guys, but I just couldn't get anything out. Ugh, infuriating. Oh, and...I haven't exactly touched up on my research on turians because I wanted to get this chapter out now, so if I got something slightly wrong about the food allergies...sorry. Of course, I'm making the majority of this stuff up wildly as I go because there isn't enough information, so you'll have to forgive me in that respect. The words wrote themselves - I had nothing to do with it, really.

But here we are. Again I apologize – I feel awful for doing this to you guys.


	5. Chapter 5

**Shades of Night**

_Chapter 5_

* * *

"You _what?_"

Loc's voice trembled off the walls of his private study with restrained amusement. His eyes, a dark green color uncommon in turians, passed over his companion with a mixture of incredulity and sympathy.

"I will not repeat myself." Pallin muttered as his back propped stiffly against the guest seat he had accosted upon arrival. Normally it was a comfortable chair – he had sat there many times. Today it was something akin to a rock, with thorn bushes tying him down.

The other turian stood up abruptly and approached the wall cabinet behind him. The glass door slid back smoothly and Loc removed two glasses. He filled each with a substance that was quite literally radioactive. It pulsated between blue and purple as he swirled it about in the conical container.

Pallin considered the glass as it was proffered to him, accepting it with some reluctance. "Still engaging in lethal habits." He noted, taking a careful sniff of the concoction, but not drinking. "It will kill you someday."

Loc chuckled as he returned to his seat at took a sip. "Only when regularly consumed over extended periods of time." He amended cordially. "Not even I am rich enough to maintain a supply of that quantity."

"I will not ask where you come by this abomination." Pallin returned. "I'm sure I do not want to know."

"It will help you know." Loc continued obliviously. "Skies above know you need some right about now."

Pallin grunted and gingerly tasted the vile drink. He didn't know what Loc saw in it, besides being a strong hallucinogen. The dratted stuff even _felt _like it was peeling away his insides. Having resistance to radiation was one thing, but drinking it in liquid form? There were more pleasant ways of sending oneself prematurely to the grave.

It brought to question just how Loc managed to maintain his health so spectacularly. That and how he could afford such a rare and pricey pleasure. There was no doubting that he was a well-off, but where his funding came from was a mystery. It certainly wasn't a bartender's wage.

Come to think of it, no one knew what exactly Loc _did _on the Citadel, but Pallin would bet that it was something to do with his aptitude for information gathering – another question that Pallin had every intention of never asking. Some things were best left alone.

"So, what do you intend to do?" Loc asked after a moment, his glass still over half full. It generally took him all of two hours to finish one.

Pallin pushed his aside. "I intend to find out what the hell is going on, of course." He replied irritably. "I will require…information."

The other turian smiled, his teeth bared as he emitted a sound that was akin to animalistic cackle. It was a sign of pleasure, but it sounded eerie. Many a turian refrained from using such outward expression in front of other species for it was strange and disquieting.

Come to think of it, even Pallin found it a bit unnerving so far from home. "I assume that is not a problem for you." He ventured.

"Is it ever?" Loc returned with a quizzical brow, or as close to one as he could come. He sat forward, leaning against his desk with an intent look about him. "But what about this girl of yours? _That _is infinitely more interesting."

Pallin twitched, "She is not mine."

"From what I gather, she _could _be." Loc supplied.

_Blithering fool.  
_

"Don't tell me you believe this nonsense?" Pallin snarled. As if he were that sort of man – turian, whatever. He was male, that's all that mattered. "It is some human trickery, I'm sure."

Loc sighed. "Venari," He drew out the other's name with an admonishing tone. "They're not all out to get you, you know. She seems quite charming, from what I've gathered."

Pallin's eyes narrowed a fraction, "You have seen her?"

"Of course I have." He scoffed. "You didn't think that I'd miss the rumors floating about, did you? I'd be the first to jump on such delectable gossip, how else would I make my living? She's made quite a name for herself."

From the sound of it, Pallin was beginning to suspect that Loc actually _liked _the girl. That disturbed him on more levels than he cared to admit. Loc had always shown a weakness towards humans, possibly because it served his 'business' better to make friends and not enemies.

Never mind that Pallin was suffering from something that could theoretically be called lover's withdrawal. He wasn't going to think about that.

"Parlor tricks are hardly worth such attention." Pallin noted.

At that Loc paused and regarded him thoughtfully. After a moment he spoke, choosing his words with care, "Perhaps you should pay a visit to Aerospace Engineering and see how the girl _really _earns her wages."

He faltered. "What are you suggesting?"

That reminded him, he hadn't checked his account to see how much she had paid for her stay. Yet another thing to add to his list of things to do today…

Loc shook his head, "Suspicious old goat. Go and see for yourself. It's nothing sinister, I promise you."

Pallin's mind reeled to a halt, "_Old_?"

The other turian let out a bark of laughter at that, slapping the table with his hand. "She's gotten to you, alright." He declared and sighed. "I wish I could tell you that it is some dratted undercover operation set forth by the human infestation, as you are wont to call them, but this is not the first time that such a thing has occurred to one of our own, Venari. I'll wager that it's been happening more and more frequently in recent years even, as we become more acclimated to the human race."

Loc paused to catch his breath before continuing,

"There's a deeper connection within all intelligent species that defies the laws of nature, a connection that allows us to appreciate and at times…feel quite strongly towards others of different race. For, and I know you shudder to hear this, the truest, most powerful bond in all the Universe is that of the mind – where two people are of such fitting intellects and temperaments that they quite literally match one another heart and soul. Sometimes this is referred to as 'love'."

Silence…

"It does not require same species." He added.

Pallin stared back at him flatly. "You've been reading raunchy human novels again, haven't you. I warned you - their foolish ideals and sentimentally are addling your brain."

"You wanted my opinion. I gave it."

"So noted." Pallin muttered and stood up from his chair. He dropped a folder onto his friend's desk. "This is a file containing information on the girl's family. Let me know if you should dig up anything further that may be of use to me."

Loc retrieved the folder with a discreet nod. "As you wish. Good day to you, Venari."

"Goodbye, Loc."

* * *

It was no good. One didn't simply break into a medical facility. Due to their nature they were open twenty-four hours a day. There was never a time when Pilar could simply slip in unnoticed and then slip back out. There was no guarantee that they'd have any of the things she needed anyway.

She'd tracked down three more ingredients for her injections last night while purchasing Pallin's draught. They had required special ordering, but she _could _get them, for a price. There were still two more that she needed however, one of which was blacklisted while the other was on earth's endangered species list.

That left her with one option, the one she had been avoiding since arriving. The krogans hadn't left her with nothing when they bartered her a journey to Citadel. They had given a number to a contact, someone that they swore she could trust explicitly if she needed anything that couldn't be acquired by…conventional means.

Of course, they'd also thought she'd be alright on the human freighter. It was supposed to have taken her straight to the Citadel and dropped her off, as per the agreement, but they had held her captive instead. She had only managed to escape by disabling the ship's cooling system, thereby postponing its departure long enough for her to sneak off.

But she _needed _those ingredients and it wasn't as if the krogans had known that the ship was not trustworthy. They had assumed, it being run by humans, that she would be safe on it. She didn't blame them for the minor slip up.

The avenue to come in touch with her last resort had now come however.

There had been an explosion down on C-Level of Aerospace engineering that morning and everyone in that the wing of the building had been let out on extended leave until the mess was cleaned. Two people had died, neither of which Pilar knew – she hadn't reached that far up the ladder yet. At least, she hadn't until two of their brightest scientists had perished in an accident.

The worst part of it was that it actually helped her towards her goal, as if the fates had known her thoughts and stepped in to give an extra push. That knowledge bothered her more than she cared to admit. Pilar couldn't' shake the feeling that it was somehow her fault, even when she knew it wasn't.

But this was her chance. She could only attempt to contact the krogans' man at certain times, one of which happened to be now, and even then it was not certain he would be within reach. He was a busy person, they said, but this would likely be the best opportunity she'd get without having to take time off work.

Pilar hands shook as she dialed in the number. She'd never used their phones before. They weren't all that different from the ones back home, just more high tech and complicated. That was something she understood at least, from an engineering point of view.

The reply came in a text message, one word: "Name."

She bit her lip as she punched in the requested information, hoping fervently that the krogans had thought to inform their contact of her arrival on Citadel. She hit the send button and waited, unable to move for fear of the answer.

An address immediately flashed across the screen, followed by a brief message that directed her to arrive in half an hour, and a password. Pilar blinked at it, mildly startled at how quick the transaction had been. He had closed the connection as soon as the message was sent, but the words still stared up at her from the tiny screen.

It took her all of those thirty minutes to find the location. The place she arrived at was not distinctive or overly elaborate. All of the buildings on Citadel were pristine and orderly, and quite similar. This one was no different.

Only, the directions didn't lead into the building, they led around it. There was a dark alleyway that disappeared to the right. Pilar followed it, glancing nervously behind her as she did. No one seemed to notice her.

The first thing she realized while walking down the first few steps into what was undoubtedly a low town of sorts, was that it was the cleanest alleyway she'd ever seen. There was nobody in it, no trash, and no foul smells. Everything that she'd seen of the Citadel was that way, but it still surprised her.

There was only one door at the end of the alley and down the last set of steps. Pilar had half expected to meet guards, but there were none. A panel on the wall required the password that she'd been given. She punched it in carefully and looked behind her again.

A dull sound emitted from the door as the lock came off and it slid open. There was a short hall on the other side, unadorned and blindingly white. Pilar stepped inside quietly and walked to the door on the far side. After a moment of hesitation, she knocked.

"Come in." A voice from within beckoned.

Pilar took a deep breath as the door slid open of its own accord into a small and orderly office. Then she blinked, mistrusting her own eyes. Sitting across from her at a large, glass desk, was a turian. That was quite possibly the last thing she expected, knowing what she did of krogan – turian relations.

_He_ was their contact?

The turian made a sound like a raptor purring. It was almost pleasant, but it made her hair stand up. "Not what you expected, I imagine." He said and his voice was smooth. "Do sit down."

Pilar did, reluctantly. Learning from previous experience, krogan judgment was not always sound when the safety of human girls were involved. They were frankly out of their league. This person might not have _her _best interests at heart.

"I am Loc." He announced. "And you must be Pilar."

* * *

_"Perhaps you should pay a visit to Aerospace Engineering and see how the girl really earns her wages."_

Anyone within earshot of Pallin heard a growl as he passed them. He had business at the Citadel Tower this particular day, much as it irked him, and make no mistake, it did. That was beside the point however.

She had deceived him. Never mind that he hadn't specifically asked what job she had acquired – he hadn't really cared at the time. It was a misstep on his part, clearly, but that didn't change the fact that she had kept something from him.

Pallin did not like secrets.

He wasn't going to like what he was about to hear in the turian council member's office either. He rarely did, but this was going to take his already bad day to new and impressive heights.

"Tell me, Executor Pallin," Began the council member as he rotated his chair around to face him. "Are you familiar with the Prothean legend of Reapers?"

Pallin frowned cautiously. "Yes." He answered, a bad feeling curling under his spine as he waited for an elaboration.

The council member shrugged, "It's nothing serious I'm sure. We have had…reports, however, that seem to indicate a possible existence of these creatures. The council has readily dismissed the possibility of course…"

He trailed off and the room temperature dropped several octaves.

"But?" Pallin enunciated loudly, not liking where this was going, or where it was coming from for that matter. He could make a guess as to who was responsible for spreading such nonsense. Unfortunately, that wasn't half as disturbing as the possibility that Reapers were _real._

Commander Shepard was not on the top of his list of favorite people – she was, in fact, deep in 'least favorite people' territory, if only for precautionary reasons. That being said, it was Pallin's job to take seriously anything of this magnitude, regardless of who was ferreting information, because if it _did _somehow come to fruition, he would be the one responsible for 13 million lives put in danger by his failure to act on a threat.

"I thought it would be prudent to inform you of the situation." The council member clarified.

_More like a tenth of the situation. _Pallin grunted. "Is that all, sir?"

"For the time being, yes." He answered. "You are dismissed, Executor."

The only thing that Commander Shepard had going for her in Pallin's view was the fact that he disliked the council even more. They were responsible for sudden influx of human power. She was _their _pet.

And there was nothing he could do to stem the tide.

Pallin stalked through Citadel tower, ignoring those around him and forcing those in his path to steer clear. It had become routine over the years for people to step out of his path whenever he left the tower. So he was not expecting to be intercepted by another one of his least favorite people on the way out, nor was he remotely pleased.

"Officer Peterson." Pallin drew out impatiently, "Is there something you want or are you wasting my time for another reason?"

The man cleared his throat, unfazed, and produced a data disk that he hastily handed over, "The _Dauntless_ was discovered this morning at 0500 hours by a small freighter passing through the Kepler Verge cluster. There wasn't much left of her."

Pallin stilled, "And the crew?"

"Dead sir." Peterson responded. His expression was worried and did not go unnoticed by the turian Executor.

"Very well." Pallin said. "Have the remains of the vessel brought back for examination. I expect you to make a thorough study. Report back to me when you are finished."

"Yes sir." Peterson returned smartly and left.

Pallin continued to the elevators at a much slower pace.

What in man's hell was it doing in the Kepler Verge cluster? A large freighter such as the _Dauntless _had no business in that sector of space. It shouldn't have been a target of hostilities either, unless it had been ferrying illegal goods.

Pallin pocketed the electronic report as he stepped into the elevator. He would look over it tonight, but first…to investigate just what Pilar was doing over at AeroSpace engineering. Wherever he turned the girl was up to something.

He arrived at the Sector of Scientific Research only to be stopped at the doors by electronic warning tape and several of his own C-Sec officers. They were unfamiliar to him, but at his level he did not acquaint with everyone who worked beneath him. One was a turian, the other salarian.

"What happened?" Pallin demanded.

The turian officer responded first. "Minor explosion in C-Level – an engine self-combusted while under surveillance. Lost two of their best engineers."

"Signs of foul play?" He asked.

"None." The officer replied. "They've been declared 'accidental deaths'."

"And the other employees?"

"Unharmed. They were let off for the day." Came the answer

"Very well." Pallin nodded. "Thank you for your time."

"My pleasure, sir."

The Universe had it in for him today. There was simply nothing else for it. Nothing was going according to plan, and on top of that, he was trying to function on an empty stomach. He arrived at his office only to slump into his chair with his head propped against his fist, and stifled a groan.

It was too much. He had tried to maintain focus on his job and not on the continuing strife outside the Citadel, but the tensions were rising to a point where he couldn't ignore it any longer. The Council's subtle whispers didn't help matters any. There was little he could do even with their warnings, but he couldn't help feeling that he'd been neglectful in his duties as of late.

She was responsible. It always came back to the blasted girl. Pallin didn't want to analyze just how closely that thought resembled the ravings of a human romance novel's hero.

_I'm throwing her out...to hell with the ramifications._

"Pallin?"

He quite literally jerked out of his seat at the sound of that voice. At first he thought it was a dream. For her to show up at such a pivotal moment in his musings was uncanny, but when he looked again she was still there, hovering inside his office with an uncertain air.

How had she gotten in without him noticing?

The girl's brow furrowed slightly at the violence of his reaction. She had a steaming mug clasped between her hands. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to startle you."

"I was fine before you arrived." Pallin threw out.

A flush sprawled over her cheeks and she averted her eyes to approach his desk. "I brought you some of that tea that I bought last night…since you weren't awake when I got back." She murmured and handed the mug to him.

Pallin's nose twitched as he leaned forward and sniffed the offending object. It was a familiar scent, strongly pleasant; he had bought it before in the past. She had spared no expense.

"Have you had lunch yet?"

He nearly dropped the mug. It was a good thing it had a travel lid or else he would have spilled it all over himself. His hands had literally gone numb for a split second.

It was a simple question. It shouldn't have caused such a fuss. Certainly not the reaction he'd given.

"I haven't the time." Pallin muttered, feigning disinterest as he examined the flicker on his holograph screen. Damn panel was malfunctioning. He'd have to call someone down to fix it later.

Pilar chewed on her lip, her hands back to worrying the edge of her uniform, "I'll buy."

Pallin blinked, his head lifting at an agonizingly slow rate. He pegged her with a stare that could wilt steel and was aptly rewarded with her visible squirm. Then his stomach growled and her lips widened in a knowing smile, which only made his insides twist harder.

"Come on," She insisted. "You need a break."

He scowled, inwardly conceding that she was probably right, and took a sip of the mug. Its effects were immediate, but it also gave him cramps. Liquid in an empty stomach always had that effect on him.

"What if I bring you something instead?" Pilar suggested.

Pallin clenched the mug more tightly. It was becoming a natural response to her acts of kindness. If she weren't so damn earnest about it every time, sending her away would've been so easy.

That's right – he was supposed to be kicking her out of his apartment right now. Well, to hell with that. He was hungry and tired, and his head ached, and her offer was too good to pass up.

"You may pick up something, if you so desire." He murmured. "But I will have to accompany you."

Pilar leveled him with a delicately arched eyebrow. "Doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose?" Almost s soon as she spoke she understood. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Oh for Pete's sake, if I was going to poison you, you'd be dead already!"

Pallin froze and glared down at the mug in his hand. Why had he not thought of that? Maybe he was being a little paranoid, but he was getting lax in his old age. Loc had called him _old_, the snarky bastard.

He certainly didn't feel poisoned.

"What about delivery? I'm sure they must do that around here." Pilar tried again.

Pallin had already stood and was heading towards the door, where he stopped and glanced back at her expectantly. "Are you coming or not?"

Her mouth fell open wordlessly. It shut with a snap as she ran to catch up with him. "But…are you sure?" She called as they descended the steps. "I didn't think you'd, uh…want to be seen out in public."

"Worse than having a human girl living in my apartment and frequenting my office?" Pallin inquired sourly.

"Well I don't know. You could lock your door or something." Pilar mumbled. "Wait, there aren't security cameras in there, are there?"

"Of course there are." The turian retorted. "If everyone on the Citadel doesn't already know more than they should about my business I'd be greatly surprised."

The girl visibly paled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought…I could leave if you want."

"Then _I'd_ have to buy lunch." He reminded her.

Pilar glanced at him, her eyes twinkling as she smiled. "You're laughing at me, aren't you." It was a statement, not a question.

Pallin cleared his throat uncomfortably. "No, I'm cheap."

"Well, I guess there something to be said for admitting to it." She replied, but the smile didn't leave.

He took another sip of the tea. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

It was a quiet ride on the quick transit. For once the girl didn't talk, not that he trusted it to last. She waited until they had reached his destination; a quaint coffee shop that served soup and bread. There were people of all species milling there and while some cast them curious glances, no one was apt to pay closer attention.

They sat down a table in the corner where the lights were dim and there were fewer patrons. It was an out of the way spot, just the sort of thing Pallin would appreciate, she suspected. There was something cozy about it she decided.

"Do you often come here?" Pilar asked, looking around with curious admiration.

"I _only _come here." Pallin clarified and perused the electronic menu with lackluster enthusiasm.

"It's nice." She said.

The turian merely grunted. Maybe if he broke it to her here that he wanted her out, she would accept this as some sort of grace payment for her trouble. He couldn't believe he had agreed to this.

Several minutes and a tiresome explanation later Pilar had finally discovered the wonders of the automated ordering system. She was more interested in the science behind the technology rather than the technology itself. Pallin was once again reminded of Loc's earlier suggestion.

Just what did she _do_? He was willing to wager personal body parts that she wasn't a secretary.

"So," Pilar leaned forward, their orders made, and gave him an appraising look. "—is it paint or a tattoo?"

Well he should have seen that one coming. It was a miracle that she had taken this long to come forward. That was usually the first thing that overly curious humans asked.

"It is a tattoo." Pallin drawled.

The girl tilted her head to the side, "What does it mean?"

He shot her a reproving look. "It denotes the clan from which I come."

"Oh," She murmured thoughtfully, "So then, why don't all turians have it – a tattoo I mean?"

"Because only those of high rank may bear clan markings." He replied distractedly.

"Well, I think it's really neat." Pilar answered and sat back. Her eyes wandered constantly until lunch came, and then she withdrew into a shell. She was still, however, fidgeting from an overabundance of questions that she dared not ask.

People were starting to notice them.

It was not unusual for different races to be seen in each other's company, but seeing Pallin with anyone other than himself was unheard of. If he were cross enough with her there would be no misgivings concerning the status of their relationship. He was content to ignore her instead.

Pilar cleared her throat, setting her spoon back into her empty bowel – she ate abnormally fast. "Umm," She was turning an interesting shade of pink, which could only bode ill. "I was wondering, I overheard someone the other day and he said something that I didn't understand. 'if you polish enough gizzard' I think it was. What does that mean?"

Pallin straightened, staring at her for a moment. It was a common turn of phrase used among turians, one he was not particularly fond of. He scowled.

The girl blushed deeper, if that were possible.

"It's a turian's equivalent of sucking up to." Pallin explained.

Her brow furrowed, "Oh, so…oh!" She gasped, her eyes brightening. "I get it now. Turians have gizzards, like some birds back home. You have to swallow stones to help digest certain things, right?"

"Yes."

Pilar sat back with a contented sigh, "Everything is so different here." She murmured after a moment and brought up the receipt panel to pay for their meal.

She breezed right through it, her earlier lesson having apparently stuck. Pallin was mildly impressed.

"I never imagined anything like this would be out in space." She said.

"What did you imagine?" He inquired.

Pilar shrugged lightly. "More empty space I guess. I'd always hoped though, that there was something more out there …"

Pallin didn't hesitate to take advantage of her statement and use it for ammunition. His skills in that department were well honed. "Indeed, humankind's exceptional talent at subjugating those who stand in their way facilitates an eagerness to expand and control."

The girl grew still, her face drawn and pale. "I'm sorry you feel that way." She said quietly and studied her hands. "But I'm not all of them, and I'm not the benchmark by which all humankind is based. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you – that's what my mother always said."

"Oh?" He sat forward, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "And what did she have to say about the first contact war, as you humans call it? What was she doing then, a scientist in a time of strife, no doubt on the payroll of the Alliance military? Or were you even there?"

"I was there." Pilar whispered sharply and a familiar shadow cast over her face. She stood up from the table and looked back at him. "My Mom lived and died by that belief, and so did my Dad…."

She was looking past him then, as if caught in a memory, or a dream that he was not privy to, before adding, "I would too, if I believed I had to."

Then she walked away.

Pallin stared after her in silence.

"_I would too."_

Those words left a chill in her wake that penetrated to the bone, soliciting a shudder from him. He couldn't shake the ominous feeling that clenched his chest. If he had been listening to her thoughts in that moment, he was certain she would have been saying _I will _instead_. _

Perhaps he had pushed her too hard.

Pallin shook that thought away though and departed the establishment. Now was not the time to be worrying about some human girl. From what he could tell she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

* * *

Pilar wandered through the streets aimlessly, until she came to the Presidium. She found a bench down by the water's edge and took a seat to watch the waves, wishing they would somehow swallow her whole.

It was strange, being alone. Her family had always been with her before and while she had been isolated from others her age, it had never bothered her. But this was different. There was no one to share the burden with now, even if she had wanted to – no one to tell who would want to know for _her _sake.

_But that's how it's supposed to be_, she reminded herself.

She missed home; she missed her parents.

Pallin was the only person Pilar really knew. He was the closest thing she had to a friend, but he was so _difficult _at times. She felt awkward around him, always waiting on edge for what he would say next, if anything at all.

There were other people at work that she interacted with, some of them human, but she never spoke to them. Sometimes they tried talking to her and she was polite with them when they did, but she never accepted their invitations to go out at night. It was just too dangerous.

And she liked Pallin, even when he was rude and irascible. He was honest and his work was honest. He might not trust her, but she believed wholeheartedly that he would help her if she needed it, and he would do the right thing. That's what mattered.

Pilar sighed, drawing her knees to her chest. Maybe she should tell him. Maybe it would be better if she didn't do this on her own.

But that couldn't be. She didn't want him to be involved, at least, not until the very end.

It would be another three weeks at least before she was finished. She would have to sneak into the Medical Research Facility soon too, maybe tonight. That wing was on the opposite side from where she worked, but she had special clearance.

Never mind that she wasn't supposed to be there at night. She'd disable the cameras. Getting by Pallin was the difficult part, but she thought she had that fixed – she could go out the window and through the gardens.

She hoped he was still speaking to her, although part of her had to wonder why it wasn't she who refused to speak to _him _after what he'd said.

* * *

He'd barely sat down before a call had come through his terminal. Pallin uttered a rare curse, slammed down the 'open connection' button, a growled into the receiver, "What!"

"….Executor Pallin?" Spoke a small, tentative voice from the other end. "This is Dr. Kobachi at the Medical Research Center."

The turian groaned softly and cleared his throat. "Have you found anything?"

There was a brief pause. "Well yes," The salarian hedged. "—but I'm not sure what it _is_ precisely that I've found."

"Give me something." Pallin ground out.

"I've got a list of the substances found in the residue of the vial." Kobachi answered. "Most of them are native to the human's home planet, but one here is on the blacklist – a microscopic parasite, known mostly for its ability to nullify certain poisons and eating other harmful parasites."

The turian looked mildly perplexed, "Why was it blacklisted?"

"Well, without the proper precautions the parasite will multiply at such a rate that the parasite over-consumes and must turn to its host for food." Dr. Kobachi said. "This condition is lethal unless immediately treated."

Pallin blinked, "Why in man's hell would she be ingesting a deadly parasite?"

"As near as I can see, she's taking a medicinal antidote, which indicates that whatever ailment our patient has, it keeps the parasite busy and eventually kills it, at which point she must receive another dose. I've never seen anything like it though, nor has my human colleague in research and development." The salarian explained. "We've tried to locate a duplicate with no success."

Pallin quieted as he leaned back in his chair, regarding the holographic screen of his panel (still flickering) intently. She was sick then. Of course, he had thought so a few days ago when she'd collapsed in the apartment half dead.

He should have realized it sooner.

"Sir?"

The turian sighed. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, actually." Kobachi said and paused, before adding, "There's one other thing that may be cause for concern."

"Do tell."

"One of the ingredients is a severely endangered species – A form of Deadly Night Shade, I believe is its name. If she were in need of more doses, she may not be able to make them." The salarian finished.

Pallin inhaled slowly. "I will see to it that she knows. Is there any way for you to find out what sort of ailment the antidote is treating?"

"Without the patient, it is doubtful. If we could find records of the of the antidote in use somewhere else, yes, but for all appearances it doesn't exist." Kobach replied. "However, if she were willing to come in for testing, it would be easy enough to find out."

Somehow, he didn't think she would. "No." He said. "I think not. Thank you for your assistance, Doctor. Let me know if you find anything else."

"Of course, Pallin."

The line disconnected.

Pallin sat there in silence for a long time, contemplating what Kobachi had told him. Perhaps this was the reason for Pilar being put into a cryo-sleep. Were they trying to find a cure before time ran out, or was it a manner of treatment?

There was only one way of knowing. He would have to ask her.

* * *

It was closing in on 8 p.m. when Pilar got the call. She had nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone began to ring. No one ever called her.

Only, she was now on the top tier of engineering employees. One of the machines in the medical center was malfunctioning. They wanted a tech to go look at it and she was the first person they were able to get a hold of.

That was a marvelous stroke of luck. She kept expecting the other shoe to drop.

There was someone waiting for her when she arrived, one of their late nighters. He led her into one of the more extensive labs where she couldn't help but notice a very familiar vial sitting on the table. Her gaze lingered there until the scientist drew her attention back to the offending machine, explained the issue, and then promptly left.

It took Pilar twenty minutes to locate the problem and repair it. Then she redirected the camera in the room and went to the counter top where the empty vial sat. These vials had been her mother's – an odd thing to hold onto perhaps, but they were also designed to carry a specific dosage that could easily be injected.

And here it was, in a medical research lab.

_Pallin. _

Pilar clenched the object fiercely, her eyes burning. She didn't know how much the science of today could conclude from the residues inside the vial, but she knew it was too much. If he found out the truth now it would jeopardize her mission.

She'd have to run.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **There it is...

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Shades of Night**

_Chapter 6_

* * *

When Pallin finally got around to checking the sum of the money Pilar had transferred to his account, he assumed there'd been a mistake. Several calls and an argument later he was soundly assured, there had not been. The transaction was not only unexpectedly large in size, but came directly from Aero-Space Research, signed in the girl's name.

There was not a damn thing he could find wrong with it either. When he'd asked _how _she'd come by that kind of salary, he was rudely informed that it was none of his business and that it was perfectly legal. The cheeky bastard hung up on him before Pallin could give him what-for.

That, however, was beside the point. She had given him too much. He would have to pay her back now, or allow her to stay for another two months, neither of which was a particularly enjoyable prospect.

The lights sprang on to reveal an empty, silent room when Pallin returned to the apartment that night. When it was apparent she was not there, he approached her door to take a peak. Her few possessions were arranged neatly on her bedside table next to an unmade, but empty, bed, as he had guessed. He quickly vacated the unnerving space with its feminine scent to breathe the dead air that lingered in the rest of his home.

A gnawing edge of anxiety was growing in the pit of his stomach. She was usually the first to come home and she had no work today. Why was she not here?

Pallin made another cup of tea to ease his nerves, knowing that it was due in part to his condition that he felt anxious for her return. Knowing that didn't make him feel any less so, but it helped rationalize his otherwise uncharacteristic behavior. No, he didn't care about her – he only _thought _he cared about her, which would all be cleared up in a few days when he returned to normal.

But that didn't change the fact that she was clearly not here and that Pallin was extremely disturbed by it. In lieu of his recent discovery in regards to her questionable health, it was downright frightening. What if she was collapsed somewhere dying? He'd have a lot of explaining to do, not to mention that paperwork.

Or was it something else that kept her away?

Pallin glared at the door accusingly.

Had what he said this afternoon possibly distressed her to the point where she feared facing him? He didn't think so, but then, she _was_ female – a mysterious entity on all counts. It was altogether possible that it had and she would be returning late in hopes of avoiding his presence.

Yes, that must be it. Well, he would not retire until he saw the whites of her eyes then. She had some explaining to do.

* * *

Time was shorter than ever as Pilar hastened through dimly lit streets, away from the medical center. Crushed tightly in one fist was a thin piece of paper with the results of her diagnostic test. She hadn't looked at it again, wouldn't dare risk it.

Everything she owned was still in her room at Pallin's apartment. While she considered going through the garden and entering by way of the window to avoid confrontation, it was risky and unnecessary. He didn't know that she knew about the vial, and he certainly couldn't comprehend the depth of panic she felt having found that he now had the means to uncover her secret. He would be none the wiser of her intent until it was too late.

All she had to do was play it like a regular evening and retire to her room. _Then _she would slip out the back and by morning there would be no evidence that she had ever set foot in his apartment. He might not even discover her absence until the following night, which would give her more time to cover her tracks and avoid discovery.

And if he were to ask for a game, he would have something new coming. Despite what she had told him, Pilar was a decent chess player – when she was focused. That had not been the purpose of playing Pallin initially however.

She had wanted someone to talk to and he was so hard to draw out of his shell without something to encourage interaction. The game was perfect and he enjoyed it. Or at least, he seemed to.

There was the incentive if he won to consider too. Pilar wondered what he might ask the next time, if he were to win again. Undoubtedly it would be the wrong question.

It was frustrating. She'd given him a lead and all he could think of were questions about her health. She hadn't been lying when she said that it wasn't important – in the scheme of things, it was the most ridiculously insignificant thing in the Universe right now.

Except perhaps to her, but that didn't matter; making the right choice mattered, even when it didn't seem fair. Few things in life were.

It was past midnight, but there were still a few stragglers wandering the street as she crossed it at a brisk jog, glancing furtively at passing shadows. Pilar had taken to peaking around corners and hiding her tracks more frequently as of late. Her trail before had been easy to follow – they _would _follow, and yet she had expected them far sooner.

Not knowing was disconcerting, as if she was being watched without the satisfaction of being confronted.

But that was ridiculous. If they were watching her they would not have hesitated to capture her. They couldn't afford not to.

They were her greatest fear, her worst nightmare – worse than the disease that consumed her from the inside, out. When they did come she would have to be as alert as ever and thrice as careful, but she wasn't trained for stealth. She was just a person, relatively normal and painfully unskilled in certain areas.

Heaving a trembling breath, Pilar slowed to a stiff walk as she approached the apartment and steeled herself for the confrontation within. She stopped in front of the door, the paper of her test results shrinking with a crunch beneath her nerveless fingers as she waved her keycard. She was in the room before the door had fully opened.

The lights within were bright and offending after her long walk in the dimly lit streets. She blinked, tilting her head away and angled for her room. She didn't bother to see if Pallin was there – she knew he was – but hoped that he would ignore her if she avoided him.

Almost as soon as that thought finished he spoke. "Wait." He was in the darkened corner of the kitchen area, where he always stood when she came home.

Pilar halted sharply at the command, her head snapping alert with a jerk. She slipped the crushed paper into her back pocket before turning to face him. Her heart seemed to beat abnormally fast as he gazed through her.

The turian emerged from the shadows with a slow and purposeful grace. His eyes, an ethereal blue so intense they seemed to glow, studied her intently as he approached. He stopped in front of her, barely two feet between them, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Like a predator bird, she mused dryly; that visage was both deadly and beautiful. Even while she feared it, his presence sent a thrill up her spine and a flutter in her stomach. It was bizarre she thought, but not unpleasant, though she'd die before she let him know that.

She could have laughed at the bitter irony in that thought, or sobbed.

Pilar smiled patiently, or tried to – it was more tired than anything. "Yes?" She inquired, her hands clasped tightly behind her.

For his part, Pallin didn't know what to make of her. Was she pretending nothing had happened between them to protect her injured pride, or was it something else that he was unaware of? Her expression was strained and stank of fear.

Fear of what, Pallin wanted to know. Not of him, he was certain, but something. There was one way of finding out.

The turian gestured mutely to the chess set and took a seat.

Pilar sighed and reluctantly plopped down across the table from him. By the time she had settled on the floor, legs crossed, her eyes were hard and clear, examining the board with practiced ease. She did not look at Pallin, did not see him at all in fact – there was only the board and its pieces, and the next move.

For tonight, he was going to receive a swift and ruthless beating that she felt he wholly deserved after the bitter exchange earlier today. No matter how much she wanted to know about him or how many questions she was dying to ask, there would be no quarters tonight.

His move was first as he was the white pieces. Pilar responded swiftly, having already played several moves ahead in her mind. If he was surprised by the suddenness of her response, she wasn't looking to see it. Her eyes never left the board.

Pallin was _very _disturbed. This was not the face he expected to see across the table from him. This was another face altogether from the charming girl who couldn't stop talking to save her life for all her curiosity. No, _this_ was business.

His eyes narrowed a fraction as he read the playing field and felt a distinct change in the atmosphere. Perhaps it was his turn to ask her questions that might stray her mind from the game. He didn't think her so uncouth that she would refuse to answer. On the contrary, it was just the sort of bait she'd take.

But what could he say that wouldn't be misconstrued as an interrogation? Pallin was not in the practice of taking interest in others. What sort of questions did one ask when one was attempting to be conversational? He already knew the sort of food that humans ate and all the most predominant species that populated earth.

His hand moved of its own accord, placing a knight as he pondered the conundrum of interacting with the girl sitting across from him. Up till now he'd done all within his power to avoid it. How ironic that the very interaction he avoided turned out to be far more difficult than the actual avoiding.

That's when it hit him – the question, and oddly, he wanted to know the answer. Not because it served any real purpose, but merely because it was something about her. That was truly a novel idea in itself.

She had trapped his knight with her bishop.

Pallin lifted his head as he filed away her move for assessment later, speaking as neutrally as possible, "You said before I wouldn't have liked where you lived on earth." He began slowly, feigning interest in the board rather than meet the curious glance that burned into his skull. "I assume you must have been born in the colder climates somewhere – you're speech is undoubtedly…what's it called…North American?"

He chanced a glance in her direction just in time to catch her look away quickly. "My father was American, my mother was from Scotland. I…grew up in a place called Alaska, actually." She said.

"Ah," Was all that Pallin could muster at first. He had to think about that one for a bit, his knowledge of earth place names being limited. Meanwhile, he had also moved one of his pieces without even realizing it.

"It contains some of the largest wildlife reservations on the planet." She supplied evenly. "And many mountains…which is probably why it hasn't been industrialized quite as severely as much of the rest of the world. And because we protect it rather fiercely."

Pallin frowned, "I know of this place." He stated darkly. "It's cold and snowy."

Pilar smiled ironically at that. "Only for 2/3rds of the year." She explained. "The summers are quite beautiful, but it's getting warmer, what with all the atmospheric damage we've done to the ozone layer and the natural evolution of the planet. Although, I hear they're having another cold spell."

The turian grunted. "My point precisely."

"Oh no," Pilar protested swiftly. "You'd probably enjoy it during the summer. The temperatures are very moderate…oh what am I saying?!" She muttered, furrowing her brow as she forced her eyes back to the board. "Undoubtedly the color of lush vegetation is as appalling to you as the idea of love."

Pilar's mouth abruptly shut and her eyes widened.

She had _not _meant to say that, as the deep flush crawling from her neck to her hairline would attest to. It was all she could do not to cover her mouth, so appalled she was by what had tumbled out of it, but that would've made her look even guiltier. Better to pretend it had never happened.

What did she know about that anyway?! Approximately zero. Although, it wasn't hard to guess how one such as Pallin would feel about it, but it wasn't right to assume – certainly not to declare it out loud.

Pilar inched her head lower, hiding her face from view with a grimace. She was unfortunately brought back to the reality of her situation by an all too familiar rumble in her ears.

"On the contrary," Pallin spoke with surprising calm, "my location in relation to the Citadel gardens is no accident. I enforce its protection more than anyone."

Her hand faltered over the piece she was about to move, "Oh, well, that's good then." She mumbled, setting her knight down, and sat back quietly. "Someone should."

"And you?" He questioned and his voice seemed to resonate from the very pit of his chest. "Do you believe in that curious human ideal…what you call 'love'?"

Pilar blinked, taken aback, and frowned. That was _not _what she had expected to hear. She bit her lip as she scrambled for an answer that wouldn't sound too hokey, "I do," She replied carefully, "Though I can't speak for myself, I know my parents had it…and that gives me hope."

There was an odd glint to her eyes as she spoke. She was holding back everything in that moment and it was all she could do not to fall apart in front of Pallin. He got the feeling that such a dam could only bear so much before it did broke. It might be tomorrow, it might be weeks, but it would break. Would she be alone when it did?

Did he care?

Her hand swept across the board, capturing his knight and putting his king in check.

Pallin gave a startled grunt and glared indignantly at his captured piece, then to her face. Her eyes sparkled again as the corner of her mouth gave an amused twitch. She wove her fingers together, propping her elbows on her knees, and leaned her chin upon her knuckles, waiting.

The turian elicited a growl from the base of his throat, erasing all pretense of conversation from his mind and tried to think. But all he could see was her. There she was, sitting high and mighty on her throne, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop her.

This was all her fault, he decided, (a common thread of thought as it were). She was the one who had the audacity to make unfounded suppositions on his character – mostly unfounded. He had sacrificed a great deal of pride in his attempt to distract her from the game and had succeeded brilliantly in flummoxing himself instead.

Love! Ha! What _had_ he been thinking?!

And she was making it look easy. He should have known she hadn't been playing to her full potential before. He had suspected, but clearly she was a far better player then she let on.

_How irritating._ Now he would have to actually _work _at it.

Pallin moved his queen into the bishop's path with reluctance and waited for the crippling blow. She did not disappoint – her hand already in motion as he removed his fingers. It was almost brutal the way she deposed of the harmless piece of plastic, but the queen was the most dangerous. To lose it was almost certain death.

"Check." She stated and looked at him, waiting.

He sat back in his chair and regarded the board dourly. There were few options left to him, but Pallin would be damned if he gave up to this slip of a girl without a fight. He was far too stubborn for that.

* * *

"Checkmate." Her voice was the first to break the silence that had extended between them since taking his queen.

The board was almost bare of pieces. She had, with her queen and knight, finally run him down, though it had taken the better part of an hour to finish him.

Pilar abruptly stood, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head. She entered the bathroom without a word, closing the door behind her, and the sound of running water soon emanated from within.

Pallin propped his chin on his fist as he sat back in his chair to examine the results of their game. It had taken all of her skill to defeat him. He suspected he was the better player and yet he had lost, due to his own folly. How she brought the worst out in him!

She was a constant presence, always hovering in the forefront of his thoughts or nearby. The more he tried not to think of her, the more determinedly she clung to his mind. There was no reason for it either. She was hardly remarkable – pretty for a human he supposed, but nothing worth this much aggravation.

But she was unfazed by his constant nagging, appreciative despite his strict ruling, and amiable when he was an outright git. She was unique among her fellows, her circumstances beyond unusual, and the only creature he had allowed within his home in years.

And she clearly liked him, which was simply astounding. He most definitely was _not _flattered by it either.

No one liked Pallin. He was irascible and as stiff as a board, a slave to his job and utterly unfeeling. He'd spent years building himself in that image so that people would leave him alone, and now it was crumbling at his feet.

_Must be a phase... _It certainly couldn't last_. Getting old perhaps…_

Pilar emerged from the bathroom with barely a sound and made for the hall to her room, but stopped at the last moment. She stood there for a few seconds before looking back at him and saying, "Goodnight Pallin."

He didn't hear her though, or notice her at all for that matter. He never saw the wistful smile as she turned away, never heard the shuddering sigh. She had already disappeared into her room by the time he jerked out of his daze.

Pallin gazed absently at her door and heaved a great sigh, "What in man's hell do I do now?" He muttered.

* * *

Three in the morning a muttered curse could be heard from within the guest room of Pallin's apartment. A single light shown dimly above a half opened window as the figure kneeling below grunted and swiped at the sweat beading on her forehead. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, an ordinary screw driver in her hand as she worked the mechanical hinge of the window. Tools of various sizes and styles were scattered about around her knees. A computer chip, newly refurbished and ready for installation, was set to the side. The hinge had to be extended first so that she could slip through without breaking it the next time.

Thirty minutes later, Pilar sat back on her heels to examine her handy work. She tested the mechanics, satisfied that the new hinge was as sturdy, if not more so, than the original. Which left only the electronics to install and then she would be done.

Installing the computer chip was the easiest part. Her hands worked swiftly and efficiently with a steady assurance developed through years of practice. A few minutes and a few twists with the screwdriver later, the control panel was back in place.

Pilar did a test run of the controls to make certain they were functioning correctly and collected her tools. The rest of her belongings were already packed and ready to go. Her tools were the last to be put away, tucked into the small pocket on her backpack.

Everything had been set back to its original place, the bed made, and all traces of her presence erased. She took a quick cursory look through the living room for any evidence she might not have caught on her first time through. The floor was spotless, her chessboard gleamed on the coffee table where she had left it, and the bathroom was empty of her influence.

She stood there in the very center of the room and gazed about forlornly at the familiar setting, the bookcases, and the bare walls. A part of her was happy to leave it behind, the emptiness that she felt here having been so enveloping before. But it had been safe.

Now she was going to be on her own for the second time. Alone and afraid, she was setting out away from the only safe haven she had anymore. Every step would be a test of courage and determination.

With a sigh, Pilar turned away and entered what had been her room for the last two weeks, for the last time. She doubled checked it again. Then she shouldered her bag, opened the window, and slipped out into the darkness of the gardens.

"Goodbye Pallin." She whispered.

There were moon bugs flitting through the foliage as she walked and Pilar allowed herself a bitter smile.

* * *

Pallin jerked awake sometime in the night with a chilling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He sat up, glancing swiftly around the room, but everything was as he remembered and no one skulked in the shadows. Yet something was distinctly wrong for the anxious feeling only intensified with wakefulness.

The answer came to him with a shiver of panic; Pilar. There was nothing else that it could be. He was up and dressed in under a minute.

As soon as Pallin set foot into the hall, he knew without question. His hands clenched as the breath caught in his throat and numbness spread across his skin. He walked forward slowly, turning the hall that led to her room with a sense of foreboding.

When he stood at her door, listening for some sign of life from within, he was not surprised to hear nothing at all. Nor was he surprised when the door slid open to reveal an immaculately clean, empty room. The bed was made, the floor cleaned, and all of her possessions gone.

She might never had existed at all it was so perfect. Even the window was fixed.

That feeling gnawed at him painfully – a sudden emptiness within, like he had lost something he only now knew was so dear. It was a bitter slap to the face too. She had escaped and he had never suspected a thing.

The signs were blaringly obvious now in light of the present. He should have known. There had been something wrong all along, but Pallin being the turian that he was had thoughts only for interrogation, so they had played chess.

In retrospect, simply asking her what was wrong may have sufficed. A simple everyday question that normal people in normal conversations asked, as if they were friends.

But they weren't, were they?

Pallin shrugged it away, burying the bitterness that threatened to swell up to the surface, and set off to the kitchen to make himself coffee. It was too early in the morning to think smartly. Too early to wake up and find that he had failed at not only his job, but life as well.

It was her coffee that he made – strong and acidic. He let the scent invade his senses, clouding thoughts of her. Worried thoughts that threatened to unravel him where he stood.

Something had driven her away. She would not have been that upset about their conversation – perhaps it was the disease? But he should have apologized to her anyway. That had been his plan, at least until she arrived late.

The turian frowned deeply. There was something about her disease that disturbed him, not the least of which was the fact that she spoke nothing of it to him or anyone so far as he knew. It was altogether possible that, for whatever reason, she'd rather run than risk any further discovery. Why not simply move out like any normal person then?

Pallin snorted derisively, "Because she's under house arrest." He muttered.

No matter how much Pallin might want to have been rid of her, responsibility dictated that he keep her under his watch. That was the sole reason she had not been taken into custody, or so he told himself. He had thought he was capable enough to keep an eye on her while conducting his investigation.

_Apparently not... _

For all that it was a failure on his part Pallin couldn't muster the energy to race out the door and find her. He knew she was still on Citadel. How he knew this wasn't clear, but it was with such certainty that he felt it that there was no doubt she was still here. With 13 million people, blending in or disappearing would be easy without ever having to leave.

But he was worried – more worried than was justified by the circumstances. He had felt secure, knowing that Pilar was under his protection from…from whatever it was she was running from. Now she was gone and he could not protect her.

That was the most horrifying sensation to ever crawl under his skin.

Pallin was in the process of setting down his mug when something drew his attention outwards. He blinked, gazing down curiously at the item in question where it sat on the counter. It was his key-card – the one he had given to her.

It sparked a thought inside his mind that swiftly grew into a plan of action. He finished his coffee slowly, savoring its taste, and checked through the apartment once more. Everything was as it had been before she came; empty and lifeless.

Pallin pocketed her key-card and left.

When Pallin arrived at his office he immediately logged into his console. It flickered on with a hum to stare back at him unflinchingly. At first he didn't even notice. It wasn't for another thirty minutes that it suddenly struck him; his malfunctioning monitor was no longer malfunctioning.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair with a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth as he regarded the closed files hovering on his screens. Somehow he was not surprised. It was just the sort of thing she'd do – just the sort of thing that would tear him apart right now.

But how could she know that? He never gave an impression of even liking her, much less appreciating her company.

Never before had Pallin ever questioned himself. Never before had he wanted so badly to take back some of the things he'd said, to earn her trust rather than break it.

And it was all the more reason to carry through with his plan. So what if it made him out to be a sentimental fool. He was beginning to wonder if maybe it had been lurking inside him all along, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

Pallin used the early hours of the day to attend to any assignments that had been left from the night before. It was altogether uneventful and tiresome. Only the anticipation of afternoon kept him lively.

He should have known that life would throw another wrench into his plans; a wrench in the shape of a tall, stern looking man with graying black hair, stepping into his office. He was uniformed as an Alliance officer, but not one that Pallin recognized.

The man came to loom over Pallin's desk like some vulture. Pallin was given to a brief flight of fancy as he envisioned throwing the human forcibly from his office. Years of discipline rendered him impervious to such inclinations, but it was very tempting. He would have to hear what the man had to say, even more so because he had a deeply unsettling feeling about this.

"What can I do for you sir…?" Pallin began, unpleasantly wary.

"I am not here to discuss foreign policy." The man announced bluntly. "I am Lieutenant Godfrey. I have some questions regarding a young woman who was rumored to have passed through this sector recently and may be staying with you."

It took all of Pallin's control not to react. He grew very still, his eyes harshly appraising, and it was fortunate that turian complexions could not give away emotions as readily as human's did.

"Many people pass through here. You will have to be more specific." Pallin replied.

The Lieutenant matched his stare unflinchingly as he passed over a file, "This should be a sufficient…spark to your memory." The man returned with a hint of disdain.

Pallin took the folder with a clear lack of enthusiasm. His eyes drifted over the contents and he felt his throat tighten reflexively. It was indeed her. Her "file" was remarkably bare. They had obviously stripped it of whatever content they didn't want him to see, but they were several days too late.

"And?" Pallin handed the file back, unaffected.

"You know this woman?" The lieutenant demanded.

The turian's eyes narrowed. "I have seen her, yes. What is it that you require of her?"

"That is classified." The man replied. "Suffice to say she is under Alliance military jurisdiction and is required for questioning. Anything that you can tell us regarding her whereabouts would be most wise."

"I do not know where she is." Pallin stated smoothly and almost truthfully. His voice contained a sudden edge as he finished, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

A blotch of red appeared on either side of the man's face and he visibly stiffened. He leaned over Pallin's desk, hands braced on the flat surface and flexing powerfully, "You would do well not to withhold information. There will be consequences for—"

Pallin slowly straightened up off his seat to stand half a head taller than the man in front of him. His eyes flashed in challenge, effectively silencing the man as he interrupted softly, "You appear to have forgotten who it is you are addressing, _lieutenant._"

The man retreated, seemingly to compose himself. He nodded stiffly, smoothing his uniform as he straightened, "Of course. It was not intended as a threat I assure you."

Pallin withheld a sneer, growling under his breath, "If you are finished, you will remove yourself from my office before I am compelled to do it."

Lieutenant Godfrey paused for an instant as he entered the hall and glanced back at Pallin. There was a queer gleam in the man's eyes, and for a moment, something close to murderous. Then it was gone, and so was he.

An hour later Pallin had scarcely moved from the position he'd held when the officer had left. He waited, knowing that if he left he would be followed and he couldn't allow that. Pilar was in danger and he was inclined to take her side of it given the evidence thus far.

No, someone else would have to do it. There was only one person that Pallin could trust with such a delicate situation, only one person who was qualified to deal with subterfuge and stealth, and only one person who possessed the sort of bizarre sense of honor that would be required for the task.

He sent a call to Loc.



* * *

Pilar was terrified. Her hands shook as she handled the pieces of machinery before her, perspiration rolling off her in droves. It was partly due to the high temperature of the room – it was always hot where engines and other highly powerful heat generating machines were made and tested.

It wasn't the pressure of handling deadly substances that put the fear in her however, rather the anticipation of discovery at any moment. She never really did bother to think things through last night. Pallin could find her here if he wanted, and then what? Back to house arrest, or worse.

She couldn't not come back to work though. Everything hinged on her ability to continue her work here. It was the only suitable place for what she must do.

She'd spent the better part of the morning berating herself for being so stupid. She very well may have ruined everything.

Pilar's hand slipped and a resonating clang filled the room. Several heads turned as she uttered a sharp curse in a tongue rarely heard within scientific circles. Krogan's weren't known for their participation in science after all.

The damage was minimal, but Pilar was too frustrated to continue what she was doing. She turned away, discarding her goggles and gloves with a disgusted sigh onto a nearby desk. Her head lifted at the sound of hastily approaching footsteps.

"Pilar!" It was one of the engineers, a solarian. His name was Polick and he appeared to be in a great deal of consternation over something. No one ever called on her for anything.

"Yes?" She asked, her head tilted slightly to one side.

Polick skidded to a halt breathing heavily. "You have…a visitor." He managed. "He's been directed to your office. It's a state…of some emergency, I've been told to inform you."

The girl paled slightly and gave a quick nod, "Thank you Polick." She murmured and brushed by him. "I…shouldn't be gone long."

Pilar was struck with nervelessness as she walked the winding hall of the Aero Space facility. She had an idea of who was waiting and what the emergency entailed. And yet, if Pallin had intended to arrest her, she doubted he would have gone to the trouble to meet her in her office.

She held her breath as she came to stand before the door that quite possibly held her doom. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides as she pondered what she should do now. The choice was taken from her when the door opened of its own accord and she was ushered inside.

Pilar whirled around sharply, only to come up short in surprise and confusion. Her brows disappeared into her hairline, "Loc?"

The turian smiled at her, but there was a sense of urgency about him. He held out what appeared to be an envelope. "This is for you, from a mutual friend." Loc indicated. "He would have come himself, but circumstances have changed."

"But…then he's not going to arrest me?" Pilar asked, dumbfounded.

Loc chuckled. "No." He assured her. "But I have to advise that you take care in how you go about this. While I understand your reasons for keeping your secrets, you may find it more to your advantage to trust Pallin with the truth."

Pilar blinked, staring down at the object with a mixture of joy and alarm. "He doesn't need to know." She maintained.

"He will find out eventually." Loc cautioned.

Her gaze hardened almost to the point of shattering and she shook her head, "I can't. I don't need somebody else worried about me. I've…got to do this myself."

Loc regarded her steadily, "That sounds suspiciously like giving up the ghost."

Pilar looked away. "I've still got one chance."

"You know you might have more, if you'd get yourself to a doctor." He suggested.

At that she hesitated, her eyes flickering towards him for a second, but she said nothing.

Loc took a step towards her, "Give me a sample of your blood and Pallin will handle the rest." He reasoned quietly. "It might work, it might not, but you have to try."

There was a moment's pause before Pilar finally responded, her eyes closing in resignation, "Alright." She looked at him as he produced a vial and syringe, "But I will have to do it myself. It's very infectious, especially for you."

He nodded and passed the instruments over to her. She handled the needle stiffly, inserting it in the crook of her arm and drawing forth her blood with numb fingers. It looked like any other blood, red and rich, but unlike the blood of her peers, hers was quite deadly.

She quickly transferred the contents of the syringe into the vial and sealed the lid. Then she took it into the bathroom to clean it thoroughly before handing it back to Loc, wrapped securely in a layer of plastic as well as cloth. "Do not touch it under any circumstances, or Pallin. Any turian for that matter."

"Of course." Loc returned and headed for the door. He looked back at her once more, "Be careful."

When he was gone, Pilar's attention immediately shifted back to the envelope. She opened it slowly, leaning back against her desk as she did, and lifted out the first of the two items.

Pilar swallowed a gasp, biting her lip to hide her smile. It was the key card to Pallin's apartment – the one he had given her at the beginning and she had left on the counter top for him to find last night. He had given it back.

Her hand went to the next item in the envelope and she held her breath as she unfolded the paper in trembling hands.

_Pilar,_

_Lieutenant Godfrey delighted me with his company this afternoon and informed me that you are on the wanted list of the Alliance Military. How very fortunate that I couldn't possibly supply him with your current whereabouts as you chose so unexpectedly to disappear last night. _

_Shades of night can be found in the botanic garden. You seem to know your way in that regard. _

_Signed, _

_Pallin_

* * *

**Author's Note: **I finally posted something. It's been _months _since I've posted anything. I feel like a miserable failure, but on the plus side I got myself a permanent summer job with Fish and Game. So, I'm not a complete failure yet. But I do feel monstrously bad about my somewhat extended hiatus that I forget to tell everyone about (presumably because I hadn't realized it was coming either – I went two months without writing _anything…__**at all**_). That was downright horrifying.


	7. Chapter 7

**Shades of Night**

_Chapter 7_

_Yes! Another chapter finished! If you're confused, don't worry – you're supposed to be, sort of. I swear there is reason in my madness! Everything will be revealed in due time, I think. Theoretically. Whew, mysteries are fun to write. Enjoy!  
_

* * *

A sudden draft of bitter cold pervaded the office, tingling Pilar's skin. Her gaze remained glued to the paper and the name scrawled sternly across the page – _his _name. She had allowed herself to hope that he was gone, but of course it had only been 25 years. He would be still alive, and now he'd found her.

Anger boiled white hot in her veins as Pilar ripped into the letter, eyes burning. When the last of the shredded pieces fluttered slowly to the floor at her feet, she sighed, her fury languishing into the first vestiges of fear. She wanted to cry and scream at the same time.

Her gaze wandered over the ruined paper dazedly and it suddenly dawned on her that it was _Pallin's_ letter, to her. There was an anguished gasp and Pilar fell to her knees, scrambling frantically in a futile attempt to piece the shreds back together. As the remains of Pallin's words slipped uselessly through her fingers, Pilar imagined the turian himself slipping away from her and she started to panic.

But that was foolish.

Pilar closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When her mind finally caught up with the rest of her she stopped and sat back on her heels, hands braced against her legs. A cracked sob echoed through the office and her head hit the side of her desk with a dull thud. She gathered shreds of paper in each hand and held onto them defiantly.

No sound emerged from the office for some time. It wasn't until a knock sounded off the door that Pilar finally came to. The reaction was instantaneous and she was on her feet, alert and confetti flying everywhere. Her eyes flickered towards the door.

"Pilar?" An anxious voice called from outside. It was Polick. "Pilar, are you in there? Is everything alright?"

Relief settled her shoulders and Pilar allowed herself a short reprieve. "I'm fine." She answered and hastily confiscated the shredded pieces of Pallin's note. "I'll be out in just a minute."

"Okay." Polick replied. He lingered for a few long seconds before his receding footsteps could be heard going down the hall.

When he was gone Pilar gritted her teeth and ran her hands through her hair, mussing the already frayed braids that struggled to hold everything together – much like her life at the moment. She could see _his_ face as clear as if it were yesterday that she had first met him. Dark hair, shining green eyes, and an endearing smile frozen in the stasis of time stared back at her from the abyss of her memory.

More than anything it hurt. The emptiness that had been gnawing at her all this time seemed to expound at the sight of his name. Somehow it made the reality of her parent's death hit home. There was no more pretending that it was all a nightmare that she might just wake up from.

Pilar clenched her hands, but her nails, short as they were, scarcely imprinted the skin of her palms. She wanted to hurt that man. The law be damned, she wanted to _kill _him, and she had no compunctions about it either, which ironically was the cause of her guilt. Not for _his _sake by any means, but for Pallin's, because he would not approve and it would be a mark against her in his eyes.

In the end, not even that would change her mind, but she would never get the chance anyway.

Loc was right – more than he knew. She couldn't keep her secrets and run from Lt. Godfrey too. He would find her and everything would be for naught. Pallin, on the other hand, could keep her from him if need be, and need was indisputably present.

Pilar slowly exited the room to resume her work, her thoughts turning rapidly over as she walked, and prepared herself to swallow a giant lump of pride. Her plans were unraveling at her feet. Drastic measures were in order.

She was lucky to have gotten as far as she had without any problems. To think that she would've gone all the way was preposterous. Clearly, she'd been asleep too long and cryo had muddled her brain - she could always blame her folly on the disease.

Excuses would not save her though. Pallin might, but did she deserve that? Would he still help her in light of all that she had kept from him to begin with? Was it even worth the risk?

They might hurt him. It would be difficult with Pallin's status on Citadel being as it was, but she dared not assume impossible. They might find a way if Pallin dug too deeply into her past. That couldn't be allowed to happen.

Pilar exhaled loudly and rubbed the sweat from her hands onto her pants, working to compose herself. First though, she would have to visit the gardens tonight to retrieve the last of her ingredients and put together the serum. They might be watching in the area, if they knew that she had stayed with Pallin, which she was certain they probably did.

She'd have to be extra careful.

* * *

Loc kept his ears peeled and his eyes ahead as he strode through the embassies. Most knew him there and paid no mind to his unbidden arrival, and if they did it was merely out of curiosity. He was the only regular visitor of Pallin's office who was not, allegedly, there on business, and 'regular' was a loose term under the circumstances.

Similarly, Loc knew everyone who worked in the Embassies, as well as their hours, their favorite foods, where they lived, and more about their personal lives than they would care for anyone else to know. That is why he immediately took note of the woman with short cropped, sandy brown hair seated at the waiting area. She wore ranger clothes – not a typical citadel citizen, and he thought he saw a pistol grip peeking out from under her vest.

The woman glanced up briefly, following Loc's progress with poorly disguised interest. When he caught her, her gaze flickered back to the book she pretended to read, but still watched him as he disappeared around the corner.

_A spy_, Loc thought as he continued up the stairs and left into the hall.

Pallin's doors slid open and Loc swept in without a word, walking up to his friend's desk as if he belonged there. His eyes traveled furtively about his friend's office in assessment, lingering particularly on the corners of the room. One could never be sure that someone wasn't watching, somewhere.

"Loc." Pallin said with a casual nod, leaning forward in his chair. "Any news?"

"Nothing catastrophic." He answered cryptically.

"I see." The other murmured, his hands weaving together slowly in front of him as he braced his elbows on his desk.

"Found something you might be interested in though – you know, detective work." Loc winked and set upon the table a heavily packaged vial. "I'd suggest forensics get a look at this, but careful – it might be contagious."

Pallin's eyes narrowed sharply, "Oh? And the donor?"

"Still with us." Loc said and twisted a crick from his neck.

"See that it stays that way then." Pallin commanded.

Loc nodded and glanced towards the door purposely, "It's a bit crowded out there in the lobby today. I'd best get a move on, before I'm caught up by some lost soul in search of directions."

The Turian executor gave in imperceptible nod of understanding, "Good day then, Loc." He stared after the other's back intently until Loc had disappeared out the door and the office was again empty. Only then did Pallin avert his attention to the package, filing away the warning for later. Spies were to be expected, and promptly disposed of.

Pallin's eyes narrowed at the offending object. _That, _on the other hand, was completely _un_expected. There was no doubt in his mind where the "substance" had come from. It had not been a part of the bargain either. Loc wasn't even supposed to know about the girl's disease.

_But of course he would_, Pallin thought derisively. Loc knew everything that occurred on Citadel, whether public knowledge or the more shady, illicit kind. And somehow he had succeeded in convincing Pilar to draw a blood sample where Pallin had not even made the attempt.

That alone infuriated him more than anything else. He didn't stop to analyze the implications behind said reaction.

For a split second his expression contorted in a jealous rage. Almost ask quickly it settled back into a tenuously controlled calm. Why could Loc be concerned enough about her to retrieve the sample? How much more had she told Loc that she had not told him? How had she even come in contact with his friend in the first place?

Pallin clenched his fists, biting back a growl that rose from deep within his chest. He let it out in an expulsion of air that ended in a sigh as he leaned back in his chair. It felt stiffer today. His hands rubbed the hard, calloused skin of his face tiredly as he pondered what that meant.

He had no one to blame but himself. If he weren't such an old, crusty, drawn out slave-to-his-work chief of security maybe he would've handled it differently. Who was he kidding? He wasn't even supposed to care about handling it differently. She was soft and pink, for heaven's sake. Not exactly the prime attraction for a healthy turian male.

_Definitely getting old…_

It wasn't too soon to rule out his theory that it was some kind of disease, probably developed by the human species in a covert attempt to rule all of galactic space. They weren't content just being enamored with themselves – they wanted everyone else to participate in adoring them too. It would be the ultimate humiliation and no one would be in their right mind to notice.

Pallin suppressed a shudder and cleared his head. Sometimes his imagination ran away with him.

There were more far more important matters to occupy his mind with and not near enough time to deal with them. He would have to drop by Dr. Kobachi's office and have him look into the blood sample. And while he was at it, he'd roust up one of his officers to deal with the pest buzzing around in the lobby. It was about time for a talk with the human ambassador as well – _something _was going on and Pallin did not take lightly to being threatened by Alliance personnel.

The turian allowed himself to wonder after Pilar's safety in the midst of his brooding, which brought to mind Loc, and consequently got his hackles raised all over again. There was nothing else for it though. Loc was the most qualified for the task and he would make sure she was well protected.

Today was going to be a long one.

It was at that moment that an unfriendly face invaded Pallin's office. The executor lifted his head sharply at the hydraulic swish of his door and the sure steps of someone who was far too enthusiastic to be entering his office. His eyes narrowed on the man whose failed attempt to hide his gleaming pride was rubbing Pallin in entirely the wrong way.

"Wipe that ridiculous look off your face, Peterson, and get to the point." Pallin snapped before the man had time to open his mouth.

Peterson straightened rigidly, "Sir," He cleared his throat and stared straight ahead, as if to look Pallin in the eye might cause some irreparable damage to his psyche. "I have the finished case report on the 'Dauntless' here."

"And?" The turian drew out impatiently.

"It appears, sir, that the crew was running an illegal slaving operation, dealing mostly in young women and asari prisoners." He explained, his face coloring slightly. "We were able to recover most of the ship's log right up to when it was destroyed, and the records show their last contact before arriving here on citadel as being with a krogan mercenary ship – where they received another party, whom may have been Pilar, though it is unclear—"

"What caused the death of the crew?" Pallin interrupted.

Peterson fidgeted, "Uh, they appeared to have been attacked – that is, they were fired upon."

The turina leaned forward menacingly, "By _whom_?"

"The log wasn't clear…" The man hedged and dropped the file on Pallin's desk. "It's all there." He said, and shuffled back towards the door.

Pallin made a sound in the back of his throat, much like a groan. "I have no doubt." He muttered, snatching the file up off the desk, along with the packaged vial, "I want this krogan ship found and brought in for questioning, if at all possible."

Peterson coughed, "Well see, that's the other thing sir," he began, "we received word this morning that the remains of a krogan ship have been found in the Exodus Cluster and it's a match. From what I gather, there's not much left of her either."

The turian stood so abruptly Peterson let out a startled yelp in surprise, "How long?" Pallin demanded.

"A-A day." Peterson stammered.

"Has word been taken to the council?" Pallin asked, stepping around his desk.

The human blinked in surprise as his superior promptly left the office, and had to run to catch up as he gave his reply, "We only just found out, sir. I came to you first."

"Very well." The turian replied curtly. "I will see to it that they are informed. Have search parties deployed to bring in what's left of the ship."

There was a pregnant pause, followed by a very uneasy, "Uh, sir?"

Pallin twisted his head sideways, "What?!"

"The Alliance has taken over the investigation." He supplied, squaring his shoulders. "Their ship discovered the wreckage."

The turian halted, turned, and glared intently into the perspiring face of his twitchy-eyed officer. He could see the fear radiating off him. Peterson had always been a buffoon, but this behavior was unusual today.

"I see." The words hung in the air ominously as the turian loomed over the slightly shorter man. "In that case, you are dismissed, Peterson."

Peterson's eyes widened a fraction and he bumped unintentionally into the wall, flinching as he felt the contact. "But sir, the girl."

"What about her?" Pallin retorted.

At that the man straightened himself, his features set in self-righteous determination. "She was traded, sir. A slave for sure – probably a citizen of Earth. She may have suffered trauma. The Alliance Military should be inform—"

Pallin planted a hand against the wall with a resounding slam, eyes blazing. "And they will be, when I am through with this investigation. As of now, she is in _my _protective custody. Is that clear?"

Peterson's resolve was beginning to wilt, but not before he got in one last word, "But the Alliance has jurisdiction over her."

"That may be," Pallin allowed, "but she came to me and as the acting chief of security on Citadel, it is my job to assist her in whatever way necessary. She has had all the time in the world to appeal to your government for assistance and has chosen not to do so. Does that satisfy you?"

Oddly enough, it did. The man seemed more placated by that than anything else. He nodded firmly and said, "I'll see if I can locate the report on the krogan ship wreckage."

If it were possible, Pallin would have arched an eyebrow as the man turned to leave. "Good." He said, before adding, "And Peterson, if you open your mouth again after I've dismissed you, I'll have you canned."

"Of course, sir." Peterson replied with a nervous smile before hastily departing in the opposite direction.

For a fleeting moment, Pallin wondered who in man's hell they were going to replace him with once he retired from his position. It was frightening to think about, quite honestly. He could only hope that he would be several systems away by the time that disaster fell.

If that fool Garrus wasn't prancing around with a hero complex and his new found bosom buddy, the Alliance's Golden Girl, he might eventually make himself a good candidate – "might" being the operative word of course. As of now he was the _only _candidate, whether qualified or not.

By the time this entire mess was over, the bastard would probably come back as a decorated war hero anyway. Pallin scowled at the thought. He didn't know all that went on in that operation, but his instincts told him that something bad was coming and he was likely to be the last to know about it when it did.

_Curse the council! _And he would be seeing them today in due course. Best to clean out his system before he got there, lest something untoward slip from his mouth in their presence.

* * *

Work was calming. Work kept her mind off of all the unnerving circumstances that surrounded her life at present. Work also gave her a headache, but she was content to lay part of the blame on the artificial day and night of the Citadel.

Sleep hadn't come as readily as she needed it lately. It was more to do with worry than anything else. Pilar had had ample time to acclimate to Citadel conditions, although she suspected it would never feel quite right. It was some damn expensive living – it had taken all she had left to get just a single room apartment in the theater complex.

They were less than enthusiastic to have her when she first came, but word had traveled since then that she was a skilled illusionist and they had offered her stage time, as well as boarding. It was paltry at best. By most standards she was living in a hovel, but it served her needs in that it was inconspicuous and no one would ever suspect she was actually _staying_ in such a place.

It only had to sustain her for a few more weeks anyway.

A strangled sound emerged from the back of Pilar's throat as the converter suddenly short circuited and sparks flew under the hood. She straightened to avoid the onslaught, only to bang her head on the erected side panel of the ship she was waist deep in, and dropped her wrench with a hiss of pain. When all was said and done, her omni-tool was crackling and making funny noises that were definitely not functional.

Biting back all manners of vulgar expletives that sprang to the tip of her tongue, she inadvertently bit that too. With a disgruntled moan, Pilar draped herself over the hull of the ship and cradled her head in her hands. That was the second one she'd blown today and she'd made no progress whatsoever.

"Might I suggest a break?" A voice called out from below.

Pilar directed an eye at the sound and spotted her salarian companion hovering down below her with a look of concern on his face. She sighed and ambled down the ladder to floor level, removing her gloves and protective goggles as she turned to face him. Her hands fell at her sides and she offered a tired smile.

"I was just about to leave for early dinner with some colleagues of mine." Polick mentioned idly. "You're welcome to come if you'd like."

The girl gazed thoughtfully at nothing in particular, one hand resting on her hip as she blew a stray lock of platinum hair out of her eyes. Maybe, just once, she would. No one was liable to kidnap her while she was in a public setting and mingling with others, and a break did sound nice.

Conversation might help to dull the growing apprehension in her gut, or at least take her mind off it. Work clearly wasn't doing the job today.

"Sure." She murmured.

"Excellent." The salarian announced and launched happily into a long winded analysis of the latest rave in aero-dynamic development, what it boded for the future, modern day quantum mechanics, and how he was going to build the fastest ship to ever ply the wide expanse of space.

Pilar listened politely, offering input when it was asked for and very little else. For his part, Polick seemed more than pleased to do most of the talking. They were already passing through the Wards into one of the many hang out spots, few of which Pilar had ever been to, and he hadn't slowed down yet.

It came as quite the shock when she found herself being led into Chora's Den and a room full of shady characters. Right about then Pilar was having second thoughts. She came to a sudden stop, eying her surroundings warily and contemplating a quick escape.

Polick glanced back at her expectantly with large, endearing eyes, "Is everything alright?"

Now that the entire room was looking at her, Pilar felt rather foolish. They weren't all disreputable louts. Who was she to judge?

"No, it's nothing." She replied at last, releasing the breath she'd been holding, and followed him inside. Once they'd melted into the crowd no one seemed to pay them anymore attention, but Pilar couldn't help feeling on edge, as if someone were watching her.

They eventually came to a table inhabited by another salarian and a human woman with short red hair. Polick hurried through the introductions, bustling Pilar into a seat, and resumed chatting animatedly with the other salarian who had introduced himself as Dr. Marle Kobachi. That left Pilar with the woman, who was alos a Doctor, by the name of Chloe Michel.

Dr. Michel smiled warmly as she turned in her seat towards her, "So Pilar, I've been told you're quite the prodigy in engineering. How's that working out for you?"

Pilar forced a noncommittal laugh and tried to hide her face, "I enjoy my work." She said carefully.

"It's unfortunate about those two engineers that were lost the other day." The older woman murmured pensively. "They were some of our best."

"Yes." Pilar agreed softly and her brow furrowed in consternation. _Unfortunate and slightly suspicious. _

"Horrible accident." Polick commented wistfully. "Makes our promotion taste somewhat bittersweet."

The table fell silent at that and Pilar felt strangely like she was being judged. She glanced from face to face, the corner of her mouth framing a slight frown. Did they think she was responsible? There was no doubt it was peculiar what happened, but the investigators had already declared it an accident.

A waitress came by right then to take their orders, thankfully breaking the awkward silence and diverting the conversation elsewhere. Dr. Kobachi resumed with an exclamation, "You've got to hear this. Executor Pallin came to me a few days ago with something rather interesting – a serum residue that contained a live _Aurestothorian Pithicallius_."

Polick stared blankly between his fellow salarian and Pilar, clearly out of his league, while Dr. Michel made a sound of great surprise. Pilar, on the other hand, went white as a sheet, her hands suddenly cold. Was it just her, or was Dr. Kobachi looking at her rather intently?

"Isn't that blacklisted?" Dr. Michel asked.

"Indeed it is." The salarian Doctor responded.

Everyone was casting furtive glances in her direction now. _Of course they are,_ Pilar thought dismally. Pallin said everyone was likely to know more about his business than they rightly should, and that included her. But maybe they only suspected. Polick, for his part, seemed mostly uninterested and was spending more time gazing out across the room than at her.

The older woman frowned deeply, "What on earth could they be using that for? Not another attempt at bio genocide, I hope?"

Dr. Kobachi shook his head. "Medicinal, so far as I can tell."

"What on earth is it _treating?_" Dr. Michel gasped, "My understanding was that it was blacklisted for the very reason that its volatility made it extremely deadly towards the host once the initial threat was exterminated."

Pilar gazed down at the table mutely, hoping fervently that the topic of conversation took a drastic change of course. She felt sick and the room too hot, the lights too dim. Her insides squirmed at the thought of what consumed her body, slowly and sometimes agonizingly.

"I don't know yet, but I'm about to find out." Dr. Kobachi said. "I just received another piece to the puzzle before I came today."

"Strange." Dr. Michel commented. "I hope it's nothing serious—"

A krogan battle cry cut through the din of Chora's Den, halting all conversation, and Pilar's head jerked towards the entrance where a flurry of movement had caught her attention. All she saw was a krogan whose eyes were pinning her to the seat of their table and the barrel of an assault rifle aimed directly at her chest. When the shot fired, she flinched so badly she thought she would faint.

Only, it was the krogan who fell to the bullet, not her. By then the entire place was up in arms and C-Sec was being called in. Pilar had gotten to her feet, only to be shoved roughly back to her seat where the others at her table were getting up.

"What on earth…?" Dr. Michel's words trailed off in the confusion as both she and Dr. Kobachi dove into the mass to tend to the fallen party.

Polick had also jumped to his feet and managed to remain so as he tried to get a better look at the commotion. More and more people were crowding around the fallen krogan, but no one seemed to know who had killed him or what exactly had happened to facilitate the confrontation.

"Did anybody see the shooter?" Someone asked.

A dozen different opinions were launched, amounting to an incoherent cacophony of voices that escalated into a full-blown argument between parties. By the time C-Sec arrived half the place was in a brawl, punches flying and teeth biting. No one, however, seemed to have noticed who the first g unman had been aiming at before he was gunned down.

Pilar had shrunk as far into her seat as was humanly possibly, trying to calm the rapid beat of her heart while keeping an eye on everything that moved within the room, which was damn difficult. Right then she felt incredibly stupid. The one time she decided to go out in public with other people, and she nearly got shot.

"Well that was invigorating." Polick remarked with a nervous laugh.

Pilar looked back at him oddly and edged away from the booth they occupied. She felt exposed, even though no one paid her any mind. It would be a perfect opportunity for someone to finish the job though, with the rest of the room diverted.

Behind her, Polick called her name, but she was making for the entrance. C-Sec officers were already questioning witnesses when she started to slip past. The last thing she needed was to draw any more attention to herself. There were enough people still milling about that she was able to get through undetected.

She made it maybe two steps out of the Den when she was violently pulled aside by a cloaked individual. Her mouth parted to yell, only to be cut short by a sharp command.

"Quiet." It said.

The voice, though vaguely feminine, was course and deep. Piilar recognized the manner of speech almost instantly, having spent over a week onboard with several of this one's kin. She was the first _female _of the species she had run across however.

Being in no position to argue, Pilar did as directed. She was quickly lead to a shadowed alcove in the adjoining alleyway. There the krogan de-activated the cloak device and turned to face her. She was definitely female, despite only slight differences in physique, but it was noticeable enough.

"Who are you?" Pilar asked.

The krogan glared about tensely before taking a moment to answer, "Zale." She answered, hands firmly gripping the assault rifle she carried as she continued to survey their surroundings.

Pilar's eyes brightened in recognition and obvious relief, lingering only for a second on the firearm. "You're the one researching a cure to the genophage." _No doubt sent by another mutual friend, _she thought.

Zale nodded mutely and started walking in the direction of the elevators.

"I don't suppose you know what happened back there?" Pilar queried hesitantly as she followed a short distance behind. There was no one in their vicinity that she could see.

"Someone wants you dead." The krogan answered bluntly, shrugging. "Guess I was just in time."

Well _that _she could have figured out by herself. Pilar scowled down at her boots, her footsteps offsetting the krogan's heaver footfall through the corridor. A few people were milling about up ahead, but they only stopped to glance once at the krogan who towered beside her, and never looked again.

Zale punched the elevator control panel as they came to a halt, and waited. It was an awkward wait. Pilar felt vaguely dizzy with all that was going on and feared asking too many questions, krogan being as excitable as they were.

They passed through the open doors in silence. When the elevator was in motion, Zale turned to face her, and her sharply appraising eyes seem to penetrate to Pilar's very bone. The krogan grunted, shaking her head.

"Lot of fuss over something so small and squishy." She remarked.

Pilar smirked dryly, "I guess I'm just special."

The krogan fired a dubious glance in her direction and subsequently snorted in amusement. "Guess so."

* * *

Pallin was just leaving Citadel Tower where both the Council and the human Ambassador had managed to ambush him. It seemed that they had finally caught wind of what they termed as 'the conspiracy'. What was he investigating, why were their ships mysteriously blowing up in space, and who on earth was that girl seen eating lunch with the executor of C-Sec?

Naturally, they were all more interested in the latter question and Pallin's current relationship status. A juicy bit of gossip was never too far from the Council's grasp. Fortunately for him, he had all his keepers in a row and skillfully re-directed all attention to Ambassador Udina's doorstep.

_"Funny meeting you here, Ambassador." _He had remarked._ "I was just thinking of you. Would you mind telling me, Ambassador, why I was threatened by an Alliance officer this morning in my office?"_

After a bout of angry sputtering and hedging around the question, Udina managed to choke out an answer that was moderately understandable, _"And what officer would that be, Executor?" _

_"A Lt. Godf__rey, I believe?"_

What transpired next was almost worth the grueling task of having to take audience with the Council in the first place.

The Ambassador had turned a rather putrid shade of purple, wherein his face twitched in several opposing directions, before swearing quite heatedly, "God damn that bastard!" in front of all three Council members, and several other people who were frequenting the tower at the time.

He then promptly excused himself and was last seen still cursing a blue streak on his way out. The Council had sent someone to retrieve him of course, once his temper had dulled to a simmer. All humor was lost, however, in light of the interrogation that was sure to follow, and Pallin resigned himself to his fate.

It was far briefer than he had expected. What was truly odd, though, was that the human Ambassador had nothing to say, but that he would deal with the problem immediately, no questions asked. Grant it, he was a brown-noser of the highest order, but that never stopped him from pushing Pallin's buttons or jumping at the first opportunity to elevate himself in the Council's regard.

The topic of Pilar had been dropped only too gladly. For all their reluctance to delve into the matter, it was starting to feel like Galactic Space's equivalent of Pandora's Box. The disappearance of two ships was a cause for concern to be sure, but with the recent influx of Geth violence and the fact that both ships had criminal histories, it wasn't entirely surprising either. That this girl may have been onboard both at one time or another did not seem to concern anyone and was happily dismissed as 'coincidence'."

Pallin grunted. They were all doomed if this was the future of Citadel space.

"Venari!"

The turian executor stopped in his tracks and spun sharply to the left from where the voice had come. There was platinum hair and large, dark eyes emerging from the Wards, alone. He hadn't expected to see her, quite honestly. He had _definitely_ not expected to see her in such a harried state of appearance as she skidded to a halt a few feet in front of him.

She looked at him steadily. "I have to talk to you."

His eyes narrowed a fraction as he regarded her, "What happened?" It was at that exact moment that the notification came through his intercom from one of his officers about an incident at Chora's Den. One was down, the shooter unknown.

Pilar, who had been on the verge of explaining her own dilemma, was completely derailed by the drastic change of course. "What?" She faltered.

"What _happened?_" Pallin repeated sharply.

The girl flinched at the edge in his voice and her eyes hardened a fraction, "Nothing! Someone got shot." She answered impatiently, "But that's not—"

Pallin nearly had a stroke, "What in man's hell are you doing up here?!" He demanded before she could continue. "You're a goddamn witness!"

"I'm trying to keep a low profile if you don't mind!" She shot back, rising on the tips of her toes to better meet his height, which involuntarily brought them closer.

Pilar froze in place, mere inches from Pallin's raptor like visage, and her mouth closed with a muffled click. He stared back at her at first with a mixture of surprise and indignation, unaware of the spectacle they made to several nearby observers. They stood stark still and eye to eye, neither backing down to the other, when something remarkably strange happened.

Pallin's mind literally went fuzzy. He couldn't remember a damn thing about what they'd just been arguing about. In fact, he couldn't remember his own name for about two seconds. His eyes softened, his breath hitched, and something lodged in his throat.

Alarm bells were ringing in every doorway of his psyche, but it was too late. He was enamored. The disease had caught, only it was far worse than he had ever dared imagine. _This _was entirely self-inflicted.

"I really…really need your help." Pilar said softly.

And he was going to squelch that traitorous sensation if it was the last thing he did, because he was an idiot and he really knew that, but the words came blundering out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Go back down to the Wards and give the officer in command any information you have regarding the incident that just transpired." He ordered. "And as for help, I advise that you take your concerns to your own people and let them handle it as they see fit."

_Because I know damn well you're not going to, so you better well not. _

A part of him even understood that there was reason behind his madness, that distancing himself would deter suspicious eyes, but nothing could feel more wrong.

Pallin turned away, unwilling to look and see the stricken expression on her face, and left her standing alone in the middle of the street. He ignored the many faces that followed his retreat with varying degrees of shock and disappointment – even disgust. He wished the ache inside his chest could be so easily ignored.

His only consolation was the knowledge that she would be protected, because he had seen to that and would continue to see to it.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I liked writing this chapter, which probably means that it's going to flop, but that's okay...although it would be kind of depressing. At least it was enjoyable at the time. I wanted to let you guys know, too, that I'm going to be gone for at least seven days, starting tomorrow, so I won't be able to reply to reviews until I get back, nor will I be able to work on the next chapter. However, I'll be right back at it as soon as I get home!

Oh yeah, and the scientific name that I applied for the parasite is complete gibberish. I suppose I could have researched to make it more accurate gibberish, but I'm lazy and I don't really have time, unfortunately.

Thanks guys for all your support and feedback. I hope you enjoyed it!

Take care,

Faerlyte


	8. Chapter 8

**Shades of Night**

_Chapter 8_

_OMG! It's finally here! I'm really sorry it's taken this long..._

* * *

Pilar was not happy. She thought she was being fairly reasonable in that she wasn't happy. On the other hand, the officer in charge of the investigation back at Chora's Den probably didn't see it that way. He had already spent two hours of mind-numbing interrogation (half of the witnesses had been drunk or barely conscious) and now he was being regaled with what was no doubt the most fantastic tale he had heard thus far. It didn't help that she was a _blonde _who just so happened to pop up to give her testimony after having run from the scene.

What was a guy supposed to do? He seemed torn between sending her on her way with an uncertain pat on the head, and yanking on his mandibles with a feral cry. The only thing stopping him was that if she wasn't a raving loony or a bimbo with a highly inflated opinion of herself, and he chose to ignore her testimony, he'd be in for a world of hurt from the boss.

Someone must have deemed it necessary to hear her out (she could guess _who_) because he finally capitulated to having her accompany him back to headquarters. Neither party was particularly pleased at this development. The officer wouldn't be playing the slot machines today, and Pilar was fairly certain she was hoisting herself on a highly explosive petard.

So back she went under the hard scrutiny of aliens and humans alike. She was so angry with Pallin that she didn't even notice the funny stares or her own stormy countenance, which struck more than a shiver in a few innocent bystanders. It wasn't until she had been ushered within a pristine little silver office that she let her breath out and was given a chair to shrink into.

The officer sat down at his glass desk and wove his three fingered hands together with agonizing slowness. He was a turian, as many C-Sec officers were. There was something worn and haggard about the way his shoulders slumped as he looked at her, as if this was almost too much effort.

The interrogation proceeded somewhat like this:

"Now, you say that someone in Chora's Den was attempting to assassinate you?" Hard, staring eyes pinned her to the back of the seat.

"Yes." Pilar fought hard to keep from mumbling.

Slight pause…

"And that someone _else _shot your would be assassin before they could fire upon you?"

"Yes."

Much longer pause, followed by a poorly concealed sigh...

"What makes you think you were his target?"

Pilar focused her mind on remaining calm as she stared back at him unblinking, "The targeting laser of his assault rifle was pointed at my chest sir."

"I see." The officer leaned back in his chair and regarded in her in a very Pallin-like manner. "And did you recognize the assailant? Have any reason to believe someone might want you dead?"

_Yes and no…_ That was the problem though. She wasn't sure of anything, but her gut feeling was that Godfrey would not kill her. Not yet anyway. He was too dramatic to off her without basking himself in the spotlight first.

"No." She said firmly.

That didn't seem to surprise the turian officer. He nodded to himself, perused his interactive computer screen with a deft hand, and looked back at her in resignation. "And your rescuer? Did you happen to catch a glimpse of said person?"

She had hesitated before she even realized her folly. "No." But the words lacked true conviction and she knew it. Her eyes lowered to the edge of his desk, staring at it as if it would transport her elsewhere by sheer desperation.

He looked at her for a long time and Pilar was fairly certain he knew her lie, but he did not call her on it. Perhaps his had been a long day too.

The officer stood, twisted his neck left and then right, and rolled his shoulders. "Very well then." He said and handed her an electronic pad. "Fill this out. You can file for protection if you feel there is still a viable threat to your life. Other than that, you are free to go."

Pilar's eyes gave the sheet a once over and confirmed her suspicions; contact information. She quickly dialed out the appropriate numbers and codes. She did not ask why he said nothing of her lack of appropriate identification or ID.

When she was finished she handed the officer the pad back and bid a polite farewell. She left a vapor trail on her way out of the building.

All the way back to the lab in Aero-Space Engineering Pilar ran. Anyone who passed her in the halls looked twice as she fled by, her hair frazzled and nostrils flaring. If asked they might have said that she was the picture of a feral beast.

Most people had already left for the night however, and so Pilar's flight went mostly unnoticed through the facility. She closed the door behind her with a resonating slam and marched straight up to the ship that had broken her resolve earlier that day. Its silver gleam was smug, mocking.

Her nose wrinkled as she gazed at her reflection in the polished metal surface, gauging how terrible she looked in comparison to the way she felt, and determined not to let it get to her any more.

Her damaged omni-tool lay where she had discarded it earlier. She picked it up and went back to the working table where she proceeded to repair it.

One neck aching, back breaking hour hunched over something small enough to fit in her hand, and she was finished. Her eyes were puffy, her nose red as it dripped on the table, and every once in a while a loud hiccup escaped her slightly parted lips. She narrowed her eyes petulantly and shoved the tool back on her hand.

This really was not her day.

Pilar gave it a spin, confirmed that all units were operating at full capacity, and resumed her earlier work on the shuttle aircraft with a religious fervor that she rarely possessed. _Anything _to keep her mind occupied. Not that it was working.

Her anger was vented out in the sharp, agitated movements of her hands as she twisted here and plugged there, punched in a few settings, tested, and repeated the process. Over time the tears dried and her shoulders eased, the tension leaving her body as her temper gave into exhaustion. And while she was still miffed, she no longer had the energy to despise him so.

It was just the sort of thing Pallin would do after all, and she should really be grateful that he would be safe. The less interest he took in her, the less likely Godfrey would target him. But that was all irrelevant in the face of the fact that he had turned her away in front of a bunch of people, thereby humiliating her and stepping all over her feelings like they were dirt.

That was fine. She could live with that. She may even have deserved it, but he could have at least expressed a morsel of interest in what she had to say! Maybe she should have worded it differently.

_Ummm, you know, I have some information that could potentially steep all of Galactic Space in civil war. And I may or may not have been a lab rat for a bio-warfare virus that could potentially wipe out both our races. _

_Just saying, you know._

That certainly would have grabbed his attention if nothing else. So many things she could've and probably should've done differently, but what did she know? At the time it had seemed like the best course of action, and now…

Pilar was listless and stranded without a wind to billow her sails. For one brief instant Pallin had shown her something different , a connection between them that hadn't been there before – he was like a gravitational pull on her orbit, drawing her in with both trepidation and anticipation. It made her skin shiver just thinking about it.

The next thing she knew, he had turned her away as if it all had been nothing but an aberration of her mind. Turned her away and abandoned her to her own devices.

He was a busy person. She wished now that she hadn't said anything at all. It would have spared her the shame of being rejected and chastised for her neglect to duty.

She didn't know what to do. She'd _never _known what to do.

It was in her mind to do it herself, and she would continue to try. She'd avenge her parents by stopping Godfrey without dragging anyone else into it, because if she didn't, someone else would and that wasn't good enough. She didn't need anyone's help and she certainly didn't have the time to spare for a lengthy investigation.

A groan and intake of air, Pilar sagged back on her heels and wiped her forearm across a glistening brow. An array of complex wiring and subtonic particles writhed in her hands. Her shoulders ached and her hands were starting to cramp, but she had nowhere else to be, nowhere else to go.

It was close now to being finished. A week more maybe, she guessed. She would have to work hard and long, and there would be so little left of her when she was finished.

Hopefully it would be enough.

* * *

Pallin was leaning over his desk, his head in his hands with the mother of all headaches. It was safe to say that he'd never felt so awful in his entire life, and he'd been alive for a while. He had only himself to blame, but he badly wanted to blame her.

That was easy, convenient…normal_. Ha, _his thoughts gave a dry bark of laughter. Life had ceased to be _normal_ since she arrived. It was only now that it had begun to take its true toll.

Someone wanted her dead. Of course someone wanted her dead, but who was her unlikely rescuer? That's what he had wanted to know. And why the hell was she withholding that information?

Oh wait, he'd thoroughly humiliated her in front of who knows how many people. Maybe that was why.

It was late. He should go home, but there was nothing waiting for him there. Nothing but the same predictable routine and that didn't cut it anymore.

He had read Peterson's report ten times. It was thorough and it left nothing but questions. _Something _was missing. There was only one ship that he knew of that was stealth equipped and that was the SSV Normandy. But the Normandy wasn't invisible in the literal sense – anyone could see the ship in space if it was close enough.

Whoever had destroyed the _Dauntless _and the Krogan ship had to be invisible. There was no other explanation for it. There hadn't been even the whisper of a warning in either case, and when the first attack hit, there was still nothing. If his suspicions were correct, this was a full blown Universal alarm.

Pallin had a feeling in his gut that Pilar knew something and it was perhaps that which she had been trying to tell him earlier. It would be a fitting end to an already perfect disaster. This entire charade had been nothing but one blundering episode after the next.

Someday he was just going to have to face the truth and stop running from himself.

* * *

The botanical garden was as alive at night as it was during the day. It was Pilar's favorite place to be on the Citadel. Tonight's visit was not for pleasure unfortunately, and would probably involve a great deal more snooping around than was healthy, but she had to have that final ingredient.

She'd very nearly been caught on the way over by one of the night patrols. The ordeal had left her dripping wet and cold. She hoped there was nothing harmful in the Citadel water because she was raining all over the plants and it obviously wasn't meant for people to be swimming in.

Pilar produced a micro-flashlight from her pocket and flicked it on – thank goodness for waterproof technology. The leaves took on a silver sheen as she flashed the white light over them. It was going to be a long night trying to find a vine of deadly night shade in this jungle.

Her hopes wavered slightly and she sighed, starting at the nearest corner of the garden and working her way around the outside in a spiral path towards the center. It would be a long and arduous process, and she had to be watchful of the guards. They might see her light and being caught in here at this time of night would land her in a cell.

So she took extra care and tried to stay within the cover of the apartment buildings as much as possible.

And all the while she was drawing closer to the window that had once been her room in Pallin's apartment. She was steadfast determined to ignore that bit of fact, and ironically unable to do so. She tried a verbal chastisement of her brain's insistency to let the turian be, and succeeded only in feeling ridiculous.

She bit her lip and tried to concentrate.

There were so many plants, over half of which she didn't recognize. They could be dangerous for all she knew and she was poking her hands into the foliage, brushing up against any number of unseen things. Granted, she'd been here several times and never suffered anything catastrophic, but then, she'd never done so thorough a search either.

Pilar was basing her logic on the fact that they couldn't put anything too severe in here or someone might think to cultivate it. Very few probably even knew of Deadly Night Shade, which might explain why it had surreptitiously been planted here.

But alas, she was not looking for Deadly Night Shade, she was looking for the blasted window, and there it was. She cast a wistful glance in its vicinity, convinced herself that she was not really looking at it because there was no reason to be. Her repairs seemed acceptable, she noted…by accident of course.

He wasn't there either.

Pilar made a huffing sound and a swiping kick at the ground that sent a clump of dirt sailing. Her hands balled into fists at her side and she clenched her teeth with an inarticulate growl of distress. What was her _problem?!_

"Stupid." She grumbled and roughly shoved aside an offending bush. "Complete and utter imbecile, what are you _thinking?!_"

Her jaw tightened and she forced her attention onto the task at hand, away from him, with an irritated scowl. It took more effort than it should have. This should be important – more important than Pallin, more important than anything at this moment.

At about the third snuck glance towards the window Pilar collapsed to the ground with a groan of futility, stomping her heel into the ground for good measure. Her hands ran through her hair, dragging her nails across her scalp.

A glow bug landed against her cheek and she lightly brushed it away. She smelled of plants, slightly sweet, and distinctly green. It was a smell she liked because it reminded her of her mother.

Pilar released a shallow breath and glanced up towards the sky.

"You won't find it there."

A sharp intake of air and Pilar was scrambling to her feet ready to bolt. Her light illuminated a familiar outline and her heart jumped. Hope tingled under her skin all the way to her fingertips.

"Pallin?" She sounded too hopeful for him not to notice.

"Guilty as charged." He returned calmly and took a step towards her. One hand lifted to shield his eyes from her light.

Pilar quickly lowered it. She was in no danger now, and yet her heart beat at an exhilarating pace. She looked back at him uncertainly, "What are you doing here?"

"I changed my mind." He answered. "And I may know where what you seek is located, for a price."

"Oh." She murmured dispassionately, forcing the tremor from her voice. "I see."

There was always a price with him.

Pallin approached slowly, hands clasped neatly behind his back. His posture was always so impossibly straight. She was more than a bit envious of it. "It is long past the point of secrets now. I can't help you unless you give me something to work with."

Her shoulders slumped. She didn't have to tell him what he wanted to know. He could leave and she would eventually find the plant on her own, but the temptation to just _talk _to him was so strong. And maybe he should know. Maybe it was time to give it up.

"What do you want to know?" Pilar relented.

Pallin took another step towards her. There were only a few feet between them now. "I've come to discover that the Dauntless was dealing in slave trade, and that you were acquired from a Krogan ship."

"They didn't trade me." She corrected firmly. "The Krogans were trying to find me passage to Citadel. They didn't know the Dauntless was dealing in slaves or they wouldn't have put me on it."

The turian gave her a look as if he didn't quite believe that. "The records show that you spent nearly two weeks on the Dauntless. I take it that was not according to plan?"

Pilar nodded. "It was a sham from the beginning. They were…" Her cheeks turned slightly pink, "I'm sure you can guess at what they were doing."

"Yes," He drawled and a mandible twitched. "And were you among their prisoners?"

"No," Pillar shook her head. "Not precisely anyway. They didn't…touch me, if that's what you mean. I made a bargain with them."

_A bargain that may or may not have involved a threat or two_…

"What was the bargain?" Pallin pressed on, his eyes intense and unwavering. They gave her chills, somewhere between frightening and pleasure.

"In exchange for safe passage to Citadel, I would provide them with ship maintenance and other engineering duties." She swallowed hard on the lump in her throat.

"What went wrong?'

"They sedated me the first time we came into port. By the time I awoke we were already well away." Pilar explained.

"And you were left unharmed during this time?" A trace of skepticism had finally crept into his voice.

Pilar steeled herself. "My condition is not very contagious at present, due to the serum that I take, but it still doesn't protect against more intimate contact. They would not risk touching me."

Pallin took a moment to file away that information before continuing his questioning. "Why did you not report the ship when you first came to me?"

She fidgeted uncomfortably, gaze trained on the ground. "I was afraid it would lead to further questioning." She mumbled. "I sabotaged their cooling system in port – there were no captives on the ship at the time..." Her voice trailed off temporarily, "I'm sure...you must have caught them by now?"

A low, airy sound like a sigh emerged from Pallin's throat. "Their ship was found destroyed in the Kepler Verge Cluster some days ago. There was no indication as to whom or what fired upon them, but obviously someone did."

A sliver of apprehension worried the base of her neck. "Aren't there supposed to be little black boxes that tell you what happened?"

Pallin grunted, "In a manner of speaking, yes. The crew was as much in the dark as we are now however." He paused for a long moment, "The same is evident where the Krogan ship that you boarded is concerned…"

Pilar felt her insides twist, but the news was not unexpected. Zale had told her as much, if not in so many words. Godfrey had already tracked her to here so there was no doubting who he'd gone through to get this far, but to hear it spoken aloud made it tangible, real.

But that was not even the worst of it. A nagging feeling in the back of her mind was beginning to take shape. It was a horrible reality that she had failed to take into consideration. She suddenly felt quite foolish, stupid. She should have anticipated something like this; they had had nearly thirty years to come up with a working solution of their own from the old plans that were left behind.

"Then they have a cloaked ship." She stated and gazed despondently at her toes. "Invisible to both radar and the naked eye, even in the act of firing."

"That is my suspicion." The turian murmured pensively.

_I'll have to start over_, she thought despondently. It would not be too difficult. They would have used her plans. She could devise tracking radar that would find it. The question was that of time.

He regarded her astutely, "Why are they so intent upon finding you?"

Pilar toed dead leaves across the ground with her boot as she formulated her careful response, "Because I know some things that they don't want discovered."

"And what…_things _might those be?" Pallin took a step closer – close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her face.

Her eyes flickered towards his for an instant, but couldn't hold his gaze. "Godfrey was working for the Military's science department when humanity first made contact with the Turians." She began, shifting her feet uncomfortably.

Pallin's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, so she continued.

"He was part of a team that had been hired to create a biological weapon that could potentially exterminate the entire race." She explained soberly. "They had originally intended for my mom to head the research team, but she had refused." Her mouth set in a grim line and she was no longer looking at him, but something distant. "They thought if they had leverage against her, they could sway her hand."

She smiled sadly and bowed her head, "but it didn't work."

Pilar proceeded to dig a hole in the dirt with the toe of her boot, "So _Godfrey_ used the existing serum on me as a test and – what do you know? – they hadn't got it right. It was harmful to humans too."

"How harmful?" Pallin implored quietly.

She glanced up at him, "Enough."

"Your mother put you in cryo-sleep because your condition was critical." He surmised. "So that she might have time to find a cure."

Pilar turned away abruptly, "Maybe she did." She muttered. "It doesn't matter now. She's dead."

"That was thirty years ago, Pilar." Pallin reminded her. "And our technology was already miles ahead of yours then. Don't be so quick to make a martyr of yourself – they leave a mess for the people left behind."

"I have no one to leave behind. That's the point."

Pallin felt a stab in his chest. _He_ would be left behind…and he would not be happy about it. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before accepting my hospitality." He pointed out acerbically.

She flinched and pivoted around sharply, "What gives you the right to say something like that after what you did?" She demanded, "You haven't even made up your mind if you want to care what happens to me – you say that because you know it hurts, which is one hell of a contradiction if you ask me."

Pallin grimaced and looked away. Maybe he should stop doing that. They'd spent hardly more than a few weeks together and yet she already knew many of his nuances.

But what did she expect? He had made a living of being impersonal. She knew the way he was. He couldn't just drop the habit and admit something he wasn't even entirely sure of. That required time…a great deal of time.

Time, he was beginning to realize, that she didn't have.

"I've been waiting for you for two hours." He confessed reluctantly. "Does that satisfy your emotional upheaval?"

"Oooh," Pilar huffed and rose up to meet him on tip toes, jabbing him pointedly in the chest with her finger, "That's hardly what I had in mind and you know it."

Pallin rolled his eyes, "I am not human." He stated, "I do not suffer from the same sentimental anxieties, nor do I find them necessary."

"Well they're necessary to me!" She retorted.

"That is apparent," He drawled.

Pilar landed back on her heels and laced her fingers through her unruly hair, "Just…forget it. Will you show me where the plant is, or have I not answered enough questions?"

Pallin started walking. "I'm curious as to how you guessed the cloaking device."

She fell into step beside him, carefully averting her eyes elsewhere. "My father was an engineer. He was the one who began the original plans."

Pallin refrained from whirling around and losing his temper. He bit is tongue and tried to ask politely. "For whom?" It was clear the strain he exerted to maintain his calm.

"It was not for the military." Pilar shot him a withering glance. "It was a personal project of his – a hobby really. It was never finished, but his notes were around. I'm sure Godfrey must have them now and that's how they created their ship."

"Why would you assume that?" Pallin inquired.

"The basic structure was sound, but technology needed to catch up." She said. "Now it has."

"You do realize that such technology is beyond even our potential?" He said and not lightly. "The brightest scientists in the Universe have not found what you propose to be fact."

She didn't answer.

Pallin stopped and faced her. "You can't continue on like this."

Pilar sighed and slowed to a halt as she turned her head back at him, "Like what?" She asked.

"It is too great a responsibility for one sick girl," He began with a chastising tone, "avenging your parents while juggling a potential war of galactic proportions."

Her lips thinned and she said dryly, "I think I'm old enough to qualify as a woman, Pallin." She replied "And no, it's not more than one girl can handle. I'll do it, if it's the last thing I do."

It took her quite by surprise when she felt a hand on her arm and found herself being spun back around. Her breath caught in her throat as he suddenly gripped her by the shoulders tightly, but not quite painful. His eyes were hard and bright as he towered over her, "It won't be." He said sharply.

Pilar felt a sting in her eyes and she tried to pull away. "What do you want me to say, Pallin?" Her brow furrowed angrily, "I had to resign myself to this fate years ago when there was no hope. Why should I dare to now and risk more disappointment than if I just let it _go_?"

A hiss blew through his teeth, "When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on." He quoted dryly, "Is this not familiar to you?"

She snorted drearily, "For someone who openly despises human kind so much, you sure do know their history well."

"I despise cockiness and an overzealous demand for power." He corrected. His eyes shifted around her when he spoke again, "Neither of which you possess."

Pilar felt the first prickling of a shiver spread under her skin as she looked back at him and swallowed hard, but she schooled her face, "So what does that mean? That you don't despise me?"

He had the gall to look affronted. "When have I ever implied such a thing?"

The corner of her mouth was tugging on sad smile, "This afternoon comes to mind."

Pallin looked away uncomfortably then. "It had to be done." He grumbled. "You should know better than anyone the danger that Godfrey presents. Should he become aware that you are in close contact with the head of Citadel Security, someone will be in _very_ deep trouble."

"You mean _you._" She stated bluntly.

His mandible twitched. "Yes, to put it simply."

Pilar gave him a sidelong glance, "I know. And I don't blame you."

"If it would be of any value to you," Pallin said and released a grudging sigh, "…I do."

Her heart fluttered.

"But," And he looked back at her with a warning, "You no longer have a chioce now, whether to appeal to your own people. Godfrey is their responsibility and," Pallin looked as if he'd rather swallow his tongue than to say what came next, "they will have to know."

It was not what Pallin wanted. In fact, it was the last thing he wanted, but this had escalated well beyond what was merely his problem to deal with.

He took a breath and forged ahead before she could speak, "I am requesting a meeting tomorrow morning with the Counsel and the Alliance Ambassador," He began, "You will give your testimony before them and from there on you will be the responsibility of Udina and the Alliance Military."

It felt like a bucket of freezing water to the face. "Of course." She muttered almost beyond earshot. "So you_ are_ getting rid of me."

Pallin inwardly gnashed his teeth, which considering how sharp they were, was rather dangerous, "It is for the best. That doesn't mean that I won't continue to help – this is of grave concern to all of Citadel space, but you must settle this with your own. They would be better equipped for handling what you may…require."

Pilar could've been shot and the feeling probably wouldn't have been much different. "Right..." She agreed with very little conviction and a painful ache deeply rooted in her chest. As if he knew anything about what she required or who was or was not capable of providing it.

"It is here." The C-Sec executor announced and knelt to the ground. When he at last stood, he held a stem of Deadly Night Shade.

She accepted it wordlessly.

"Please," He spoke and his voice was different, almost pleading. "I have already over-stepped my bounds for you – to do anymore would undermine everything I've strived to build here, and C-Sec is all I have."

"No." She retorted softly, "It's not." Then she turned away as if to go.

"There is one more thing," His voice called after her like steel.

Pilar paused in her tracks, head cocked to one side listening.

"Who killed your would be assassin in Chora's Den this afternoon?" It was not voiced as a question.

She bit her lip, thankful that her back was to him to hide her grimace, "A Krogan. Her name is Zale. She's researching a cure to the genophage."

"What does she want with you?' He continued sharply.

"My mother's notes, research, anything I can offer to help find a cure." She answered with a shrug. "I offered everything I had to them, back when the Krogan ship found me and woke me from the cryo-sleep. I was lucky that those particular ones had interests beyond fighting.'

"Everything?"

Pilar snorted, "Everything that might be of use to them." She shook her head lightly. "Which wasn't much, but they helped me anyway."

"A novelty in itself." Pallin remarked snidely.

"She's at no fault." Her conviction left no room for debate. "I'm more worried about who was sent to kill me - it couldn't have been Godfrey."

"Why not?" The sharp sting of suspicion crept back into his voice.

Her jaw clenched. "I just know." was her distant reply and she resumed walking.

Pallin didn't stop her this time. He wasn't sure why he didn't because he really wanted to know _how _she was so sure, but then, he already suspected enough.

So he watched her disappear into the garden, her hair as pale as starlight, and felt the subtle stir of emotion within him become a raging hail storm. When she was out of sight, he let out a vicious curse, one that had not passed over his tongue in years. His eyes burned a trail of fire through the sky as he looked up and wondered how much pleasure he would get if only Godfrey were here now at his mercy.

He'd probably just kill him.

There was a fist sized hole ruptured through the side of the apartment building when Pallin returned to his room that night. It was the only evidence of the emotion she had left in him, the only thing that belied what he truly felt.

Pallin had been holding onto with steadfast dedication all the wrong things his entire life, and now that he knew it, pride would have him let her go. He consoled himself with empty thoughts about honor and duty, the complete incongruity of their relationship, and the fact that she hadn't long to live anyway, the reality of which made him so physically ill he almost threw up. If he thought he could do it, he was dead wrong.

That simply was not acceptable.

* * *

They would not see her. Not today, not tomorrow, and not the next day. Perhaps, in a week, they mused. There were more important matters to address than supposed conspiracies and invisible ships. A week and no sooner, they said. Until then, keep a diligent eye on her or bring the issue to Ambassador Udina, which the turian Executor mostly certainly was not going to do.

He was livid beyond words as he stormed the streets of the Citadel, leaving layers of frost in his wake. Damn them and their bureaucratic idiocy! Let them burn for all he cared! If they hadn't the time to put out the flames, it would be their just reward.

Pallin made his way towards the tower. He hadn't asked her if she would come in the morning; he knew she would. So it was there he went.

Pilar, on the other hand, hadn't known she would until the morning came and found her standing before the Citadel Tower with dark rings under her eyes and her hair eskew. It was there that Pallin found her, where she'd been standing in place for at least two minutes, unable to take that last step towards uncertain doom.

She did not notice the cold fury emanating off him, would not have been able to understand it if she had. Everyone within a thirty-foot radius had given a wide birth to the Executor and they watched him now with trepidation. Fortunately, his anger resulted not from something of her doing, but of someone else's.

He spoke to her, too quiet for those nearby to hear.

Pilar lifted her head dazedly, sleep deprivation lending its dulling hand to her senses as she met his eyes. "Pallin." She murmured. "I'm afraid."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I have no excuse for my tardiness (understatment of the year). I don't even have my stinking helicopter license yet. But I do, at long lost, have a new chapter to post. In case anyone is wondering, I no longer have control over this story - it's got a mind of its own and its running rampant with it.

Happy reading and reviewing!

Faerlyte

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Shades of Night**

_Chapter 9_

Omg, there's a snowball sipping coladas in hell and gerbils can fly - yep, I've updated. The real question is if there's anybody's still following this. I am truly sorry - really, I am. It's shameful. You might need a refresher from the past chapter - I know I did.

* * *

Pilar was perilously close to wringing the small stack of papers in her hands to pieces. Her brow furrowed with an anxious glance between him and the building looming beyond as she proceeded to vigorously gnaw on her bottom lip. The air seemed to crackle with nervous energy.

"Quit that." It came out more waspish than he had intended.

Pilar's eyes widened comically up at him and her bottom lip escaped, not quite unscathed, "Quit what?"

"You'll make it bleed." Pallin told her gruffly and started to walk away.

It took a moment for Pilar to catch up with the proceedings. She glanced over her shoulder at the building she'd been agonizing over all night, and ran after the turian with an audible sigh of relief. "Where are we going?" She asked breathlessly and fell into step beside him.

"I don't know."

Well, that was succinct. Pilar made a valiant effort not to appear concerned. It was perfectly natural that he didn't know where they were going. Perfectly natural that everything she'd planned could quite possibly blow up in her face with spectacular force – there might even be fireworks.

The instant her mouth parted to speak he was ready.

"Don't ask." He muttered.

"Oh." She replied and with a dull click her mouth shut.

Pilar dropped her head and stopped, the ground – paneling, whatever it was – glistened up at her with artificial enthusiasm. With a sigh she stepped towards the railing to gaze out over the Presidium's lake. A subtle sagging of her shoulders was the only indication of the stress that knotted there.

The railing was cool to her fingers as she leaned out and tried to imagine a setting without drama or problems. There was a man, his beard gnarled and gray, with dirty or grease stained hands, sitting on a crate under the bridge. He was dangling a fishing line from an old pole, bare knobby knees peeking through his trousers and grubby feet kicking leisurely out over the water.

Pilar tilted her head to the side, a small indentation between her eyes.

A shadow fell across the right side of her face. "At it again…" He shook his head. "Senile as an old Krogan."

"What is he fishing for?" She asked and leaned into the palm of her hand.

"The elusive Presidum private stock." Pallin replied dryly.

Her eyes perked up curiously. "I didn't know there were fish in the water."

"There aren't_._"

"Oh…_oh!_" She frowned. "But I thought only dignitaries and political people were permitted on the Presidium?" Pilar lifted her head to look at him.

Pallin leveled her with a frank stare, "And yet here you are, from the very onset."

Her head dropped with a flush, "Well I didn't know – no one seemed overly concerned about it at the time. It's not like I got to choose where I got off."

The turian hummed with distaste. "True enough."

Taking a breath, Pilar turned towards him. "Why won't they see me?"

"The council…" He trailed off with rumbling sigh. "I am not at liberty to give details. There have been things…happening that demand their immediate attention."

Pilar regarded him shrewdly, a shadow of doubt flitted over her face. "Well I hope you won't get in trouble on my behalf."

Pallin turned his back to her suddenly, his voice low and sharp, "That may be the least of my concerns if the situation is as grave as it seems."

A shiver pricked her skin and she glanced around furtively, half expecting something to leap out of the water, but despite the ominous atmosphere surrounding her turian friend, the Presidium's bright façade of tranquility faltered only slightly. Just enough for her breath to catch.

"Pallin?"

His head inclined a fraction. "What?"

"Thank you." Her head dropped a fraction. "For trying to help me."

He turned to face her, just in time to catch a flash off white in his peripheral. His gaze fell past Pilar, narrowing. She looked back at him in question before turning around with a sinking feeling.

It was a man in a white suit. He walked with a stiff gait, his arms swinging dramatically at his sides. Navy blue uniformed men flanked him on either side - there were five of them - and they marched with purpose. They made to turn onto the bridge and she stiffened involuntarily, taking a wary step back.

The mans eyes landed on her and what she saw there made something squirm in her gut.

Every nerve ending in her body screamed to run. Her muscles coiled in preparation for just that, when a hand fell on her shoulder heavily. Pilar shook herself with an anxious look up at Pallin, subconsciously hovering behind him.

"Don't." His voice was hushed, warning.

Her hands began to shake.

Besides it being pristinely and obnoxiously white – a clothing style that she secretly despised – it was attached to a person whose sneer appeared to be a permanent accessory. His eyes were sharp - at best conniving, at worst malicious. A disdainful frown curled his thin lips.

Pilar resisted the urge to reach out and cling to Pallin's arm like some besotted damsel. He probably wouldn't care for it much. She glanced back between the turian and the man who approached with mounting apprehension.

The party came to a menacing halt in front of them. Pallin had somehow maneuvered a step in front of her so that she was off to the side at his back.

The man's liver spots glared down at her from a receding hairline as he addressed Pallin with a frown chiseled of stone, "Is this her?" he clipped.

There was unmistakable dislike in Pallin's hawk-like gaze, "Yes." He regarded the Alliance personal with even greater distaste.

They were hemmed in by a hard wall of armed bodies – sweat mingling with highly processed materials. Her mind raced as she glanced at the empty faces surrounding them, but there was no way out anymore. It was a testament to Pallin's power and influence on the citadel that the armed entourage kept their weapons holstered. To do otherwise would have been potentially catastrophic.

"She is Alliance jurisdiction." The white suited man drew out in a stilted speech that enunciated his vowels with excessive force. "You had no right to this investigation!"

The turian's eyes flashed deadly with a subtle clenching of his hands. "What has so suddenly sparked your interest in this, _Ambassador?_" His voice – like gravel – reached another octave lower than anything she'd heard before and it made her stomach flutter. "She meant nothing to you before."

"_You _kept her a secret!" The Ambassador argued, the last word echoing loud enough for everyone in a half mile radius to hear them.

Pallin gnashed his teeth, "We are still on the Citadel, Ambassador, or did you forget? It is my job to serve the interests and concerns of its inhabitants. Ask _her _why she chose not to come to you instead."

From her vantage point, Pilar could see a vein pulsing along the Ambassador's forehead. His eyes looked on the verge of bursting from their sockets – it would've been funny, had the circumstances not been so terrifying. She gathered that these two had butted heads more than once in the past, judging by their innate ability to get under each other's skin.

"And your interest in a human woman stretches the boundaries of credulity," The Ambassador spat out. His eyes drifted between the two with a spiteful scowl, "I'd be careful, Executor – your..._relationship_ with her is at best scandalous. I'd hate to see your impeccable record tarnished by an illicit rendezvous with a human girl half your age."

An eerie hush settled around them

Pilar's heart stopped, blanching in horror. She was about to bear witness to the murder of humanity's Ambassador at the hands of Citadel's most prestigious law man. If she could remember how to breathe she would have yelled at the man for being so predictably stupid.

Her eyes shifted to the turian anxiously, afraid of what she would see.

Pallin was a statue of power and grace that electrified the air as a silent portent of doom. Something in the way he held himself to these people, so unyielding even with pride at stake, made her chest constrict with pain. For a species that ran towards the wiry thin - comparative to humans – he was an impressive force to behold.

"Wouldn't you like that, Ambassador Udina." He said smoothly and his words were like the razor edge of a blade. "C-Sec is the only military jurisdiction on Citadel, so you can just try and take her from me."

Udina's bottom lip was quivering with forcibly contained rage. He advanced a step, fingerings curling into a fist at his side. He lifted his hand to point at the turian rigidly, "You will _not _get away with this!" He said.

Pallin took a step forward, his face inches within the human's as he answered in a hushed tone that left nothing to question, "Get away with _what_, Ambassador? Would you care to sit down with me in my office so that I may re-acquaint you with the regulations governing Citadel law enforcement?"

"I have the right to request for a transferal of custody!"

"And I can refuse." The Executor returned sharply.

The human's pallor had gone from a splotched gray to red, almost purple. He sucked in a sharp breath, jaw tight, and his scathing look settled on Pilar. "You…_traitor!_" Spittle flew from his mouth and he jerked his attention back to Pallin with a stiff thrust of his chin, the accent more pronounced than ever, "This is not over. The Council will hear of this."

And in a whirl of white and blue, the Ambassador marched away stiffly with his guards in tow.

Pilar felt her knees knocking together. Her hand had somehow come to rest on Pallin's arm in the seconds that passed between Udina's last words and his subsequent departure. It dragged listlessly down his side as she sank to the ground and sat back on her haunches, her face oddly blank.

"I thought you said you were giving me over to Ambassador Udina?" It was barely more than a whisper, eyes trained ahead.

"That was before the Council decided not to see reason." He bit out sharply. "I would sooner grovel before Shepard than allow let that sniveling bastard to make demands of me. If he wanted my cooperation, he should have said _please."_

Pilar gazed down at her hands. "I see…"

Long tapered fingers appeared in front of her, palm open in invitation. She blinked at it and slowly lifted her head to meet his eyes. Her brow furrowed slightly.

"You should eat something." He told her. "Come on."

With an absent nod Pilar took his hand and pulled herself up on nerveless legs. She bounced on her toes, brushing herself off, and forced a trepid smile. "Well that was fun." She said with a nervous titter and clutched her stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Pallin pressed lightly on her lower back, ushering her forward. "Relax. Udina is a perfidious charlatan." He rumbled with the barest hint of irritation. "The Council would be out of their heads to accede to his demand."

_Something they frequently were these days..._ Pallin refrained from growling.

A shadow cut across her brow and she regarded him flatly. "And this was the person whose custody I'd be in?"

The Executor rubbed hi forehead with a grimace. "_Alliance _custody - Udina is merely an Ambassador, though he would like us to believe he is something more. If brought before the Council your testimony would put you under Citadel protection, but as an Alliance civilian, and they would protect you."

They had come to one of the quick transits and the door popped open.

"Would that stop him?"

Pallin did not look at her as he spoke, "To say otherwise would insinuate that the Ambassador is capable of treason, and that is dangerous territory for the head of C-Sec to embark in."

Code word for, _no, I don't believe it will stop him._

Pilar bit her lip. She stepped onto the quick transit and hunkered down in the seat with a brooding frown. "Great. So I'm going to get abducted in my sleep."

"That is not my fault." Pallin gave her a pointed look as he took the seat in front of her and punched in a destination point on the touch panel. The door shut with a hiss as the seal was made and then they were moving.

"It was necessary." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she gazed out the window. The outside moved past in a blur of light and color.

"Was it?" His tone was dubious.

Pilar shifted around to stare at the fringe that curved back from the crown of his head. "You were going to compromise what I was trying to do."

The Executor twisted in his seat, one glowing eye settling on her intently. "And did I?"

Her lips framed a dismal frown, "You're _emotionally _compromising." She resisted the urge to push against the back of his seat with her boot and refused to meet his gaze.

"The feeling is mutual." He muttered and straightened in his seat.

Pilar smiled as she leaned back and hummed thoughtfully. "You know," she began, "people would be totally scandalized at our age difference if we were both human."

Pallin grunted. "So they can be scandalized that we're _not_ both human instead. Same difference."

"Is that a confession?" She gripped the back of his seat in her hands and hovered over his shoulder with a clear spark of mischief in her soil dark eyes.

"All I've done is confess since our meeting last night." He answered with what came dangerously close to being a huff. "What more do you want from me?"

"A declaration?" Pilar teased and tugged lightly on one fringe. Before he could answer though she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the hard carapace of his cheek.

Pallin may have stopped breathing. His lungs were definitely not functioning at optimal level, or perhaps it was just the tightness in his chest strangling his windpipe. He clamped down on the immediate impulse to lift his hand to the spot that still burned from her touch.

It was one thing to play at words, but an action was tangible. The truth solidified itself in his heart with the brutal finality of one chaste touch and he closed his eyes, breathing slowly out his nose. He could never be rid of her now - he didn't want to be.

The quick transit came to a stop and the door opened. Pallin stepped out onto the platform and turned in time for Pilar to hop out beside him. They were in a part of the wards that she had never been to, with dim blue lighting and bustling activity.

She grinned brightly up at her companion and asked, "So where are we going?"

Pallin cast an inquiring glance at her, "Where do you want to go?"

Pilar tipped her chin, thinking. "Hmmm, I don't know. Let's have a look around."

* * *

They had settled on sushi, which had been Pilar's idea. It was pleasant to sit and talk about something that was not death or impending disaster. Pallin enjoyed it, fleeting though it was. And the food was good; raw fish was a delicacy back home.

"I have to get back to work soon." She told him at the tail end of an hour spent discussing everything from family to art and movies.

Pilar had learned that Pallin's mother lived on Palivan and took great pleasure in tormenting him with his lack of a romantic life - usually at random. She was a tough old biddy that ran a tight ship, but not so much that she couldn't be outraged at the distinct lack of grandchildren that he had failed to provide. His father had died as a C-Sec officer in the line of duty many years ago.

She in turn had regaled him with her father's love for campy western movies - Clint Eastwood had been his hero. Her mother had been more of a science-fiction and fantasy buff, and always professed that had she not been a scientist she would surely have been a novelist. And she adored watercolor paintings.

"Thank you." Pallin said and stood to his feet. "For the pleasure of your company."

Pilar stood up with him and flashed him a grateful smile. "Thank _you _for offering."

They walked back to the transit in companionable silence and if a person or two shot them a strange look, neither was paying turned then to face her, clearing his throat. "Perhaps you would consider a game of chess, when you are off work."

Her head tilted curiously to the side, "It will be late when I'm done - I have a lot of work to do."

He bowed his head, "You are welcome any time."

"Alright," she agree, "Ill see you tonight then."

* * *

Pilar hated being late to anything - especially work, but she had decided well before it became a factor that it was going to be totally worth it today. And it was. Spending time with Pallin was far better than the alternative of moping around, working her tail off for something she rather wished she didn't have to do.

But someone had to and she couldn't afford to put aside her mission for too long. Her ticker was winding down.

It was with some suspicion that she arrived to her garage to find her co-worker, Polick, poking around her ship. She froze, her hand poised over the door panel as she peered through the window, her brow furrowed. He was tampering with the engine block.

A tremble of real fear rolled down her spine and she stepped back, slowly. What was he doing? There was no reason for him to be in there - certainly not working on her project.

Her eyes widened a fraction when a thought occurred to her. An exceptional engineer could make the explosion that had happened the other day look like an accident. It also might explain who had put out a hit on her.

But _why_?

Pilar waited in the hall, too afraid to confront him if her suspicions proved correct, but unwilling to just leave when there was so much work to be done. The salarian fiddled around for another minute before straightening with a wary glance around the room and making for the door. She dove out of sight and tried desperately to compose herself with a shaky breath.

The door opened with an electronic swish and Pilar pulled up short with a startled yelp to avoid Polick as he converged on her path. Her co-worker jumped back with an audible gulp, blinking rapidly as he glanced uneasily between her and the garage.

"O-oh!" The salarian stammered. "Sorry, Pilar. Didn't meant to startle you."

Her hand was clamped to her chest as she nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Oh that's alright. I just didn't, ah, expect you to be coming out of _that _door."

"Oh, well, umm," Polick scratched the back of his head. "There was a power short. I just went to check that everything was alright with your equipment."

Pilar bit her tongue, "Well thanks," she replied. "I appreciate it."

"Yes, back to work now." He called quickly before hurrying down the hall.

Her eyes followed after him out of sight before trusting herself to turn around and examine the seemingly innocuous door. _He_ had used it so whatever he had set in her garage would not be triggered by that, but…her hands tensed into fists at her sides. Well she wasn't an engineer for nothing.

It could be that she'd just given herself the scare of her life over nothing too. Her overactive imagination sometimes ran away with her after all.

But something wasn't right.

Pilar took a deep breath and touched the door panel, grimacing in anticipation of something bad. It slid open easily though and she stepped inside, looking around. Everything appeared untouched.

After a quick walk about she headed to the ship and bent over to inspect the engines. At first nothing jumped out at her as being out of place, but after close examination it was clear that the wiring had been tampered with. They weren't critical wires - nothing that would ignite if the engines were revved - but Polick was no slouch if he could rig a bomb in the mechanics that was untraceable once it blew, so there had to be something else.

They did work with explosive materials on a regular basis that with even the slightest altering could go boom in your face, but those were obvious things that she would see. No, he'd done something much worse than just sabotage few wires and she was going to find out what it was.

Pilar's shoulders slumped and she released a disgruntled sigh, biting her lip. Then she remembered that Pallin had told her to stop doing that and released it with an even _more _disgruntled sigh. Briefly she considered saying to hell with it, jumping into the cockpit and starting the engines, missions be damned. But she was really looking forward to that chess game.

Grating her teeth, she raked her hands through her hair with a growl of frustration. Did she _not _have enough problems already? At this rate she'd never get her project done.

Pallin might be waiting a long time for that chess game.

* * *

It was almost midnight when there came a knock at Pallin's door. He turned the lights off and approached silently, a pistol held at his back, because there was no telling what might be lurking in the hall. Then he waited, listening.

The knock came again, a staccato tap. "Pallin?" Pilar's voice was muffled, but unmistakable.

Releasing a breath he didn't realize he held the Executor open the door and flipped on the lights. His pistol dangled at his side as he faced her in the doorway. Her eyes automatically traveled to the object in question and back to his face in concern.

"Precaution." He told her and stepped aside for her to come in.

Pilar glanced apprehensively over her shoulder before diving inside, shucking her shoes, and deflating in his chair. Her face was pale and drawn as she lay there, draped over the arms.

"Are you alright?" Pallin asked and he approached her hesitantly.

"I have something to tell you." She confessed with obvious reluctance.

He stiffened, "What?"

Her eyes slid languidly to meet his, "but you have to promise me that it waits till _morning_."

A mandible twitched. He noticed that her hair looked messier than usual and a moist sheen clung to her hairline. "That depends on what you have to tell me."

"I've been dismantling a bomb that was rigged into my space-shuttle's ignition since I got back this afternoon." Pilar explained and wrinkled her nose. "I think it's okay now."

Pallin stared at her for a moment, perhaps to allow for the words to fully sink in. It should not have sounded so casual, though there was a slight tremor in her voice - no doubt from mental and physical _exhaustion_. That tended to occur when one had to work under life-threatening conditions for long periods of time.

He could kill her himself, she was so maddening.

A growl emerged from the base of his throat and then he was advancing on her with a look in her eyes that was downright frightening. Pilar sobered quickly, scrambling back as deep into the chair as she could go. Pallin gripped her hard by the shoulders, his eyes more intense than she'd ever seen them.

"You are a fool." He snapped.

"Well it's not like I could tell anybody about it!" She contested hotly and straightened in attempt to not feel so short sitting down, "If I did they'd swarm my garage and do all sorts of tests on my ship, and probably _confiscate _it, and then I'd never get it back and all my plans would be ruined and-"

Pallin pressed his thumb to her mouth, halting her diatribe, and his gaze softened, "Alright," he conceded reluctantly, "But warn me next time so that I might come myself to make sure you don't get stabbed in the back."

"I'd hear the door." Pilar answered feebly. "It's my co-worker, Polick."

The Executor sat back on his heels, "How do you know?"

"Because I saw him tampering with the engines when I got back - he shouldn't have been in there at all." She explained. "And there was that explosion the other day too, _and _the hit that was put out for me. I don't know why he would, but I'm sure it's him."

Her shoulders shrugged helplessly.

Pallin straightened to his full height and turned away. "I must call this in immediately."

Pilar rolled over, planting her foot on the floor to stand, but couldn't quite muster the energy. Her head fell with a crestfallen moan, "I don't _want _to do paperwork this late at ni-ight."

"We will take Polick into custody." His tone brooked not argument and he leveled her with a frank stare, "You will get a full night's sleep."

Her lips pulled back in a lazy smile and she dragged herself back into the chair fully, letting her head fall back. "I still expect that chess game though."

Pallin had disappeared down the hall into his room. She heard his door open and close behind him, and closed her eyes. As exhausted as he felt her system was still wired so she didn't fall asleep.

Pilar blinked when Pallin appeared above her a short while later.

"It's done." He said.

"Is my word enough to convict him?" She peered up at him, legs swinging loosely over the side of the chair.

"No, but the krogan that was hired to kill you can be linked back to him."

"Well then," Pilar swung around smoothly. "Chess?"

"You should rest." Pallin admonished.

She arched a dubious brow. "I think I can make that decision for myself."

He sighed in resignation. "Very well, but I would have my chair back in that case."

"Alright!" Pilar bounded to her feet, grinning despite herself and skirted around him to the other side of the table. "Where's the board?"

"Bookcase."

She spotted the object of her desire and plucked it from between two leather bound texts. Then she plopped herself down on the floor, cross legged, and placed the board on the table. . Feeling much better than she had when she first arrived, she began to set the pieces, her legs bouncing with contained energy.

"Have you been practicing?"

"No."

Pilar made a tsk sound against the roof of her mouth as she spared him a cheeky glance. "How are you going to beat me if you don't practice?"

Pallin sat back, digits tapping a rhythm against the arm of his chair. "Hubris will undo you. I know what to expect now."

"Quite likely." She agreed as she placed the last piece. "So what's the winner's prize now?"

The turian lean forward, elbows propped on his knees and hands clasped in contemplation. "Any request." At the disapproving scowl that started to show on her face he added, "Within reason."

"Okay." Pilar shifted the board around so that the white pieces were on her side. "But I get to go first."

"You do realize," Pallin drew out slowly, unsure of whether he should pursue this train of thought out loud, and did anyway. "-that human and turian…_relations _aren't strictly possible?"

It was an excellent avenue for distraction though.

Pilar puzzled that for a moment before her eyes darted up sharply, gawking at him. "What - do you mean _sex?"_

He cleared his throat and considered the board with false intensity, as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb in the middle of their perfectly decent conversation.

Then she burst out laughing and rolled over onto the floor, literally vibrating with mirth. When the bouts of giggles slowed and she straightened, wiping her watery eyes with an amused sniff, she chuckled, "Sorry about that." She managed. "It's just…well…don't you use the net?"

Pallin gazed back at her in silent question.

She coughed, covering her mouth from another laughing fit. "You can find diagrams for just about anything on there."

The Executor felt about as close to gob smacked as he'd ever been. He found himself seeing the blond haired girl in a whole new light. Again he blessed the stars for his heritage and the fact that emotions were so much harder to read on a turian face than a human's.

"Dare I ask what provoked you to research that?" He'd bite.

Pilar's head cocked to one side, "Curiosity?" Her hand waved dismissively as she made her move on the board. "But that's not the end of the world you know."

Pallin tried valiantly not to choke on his spit. Was he the only one who felt distinctly awkward in this conversation? His eyes narrowed a fraction - well he did _start _it so perhaps he could take some small amount of blame. Once again she'd manage, without even trying, to turn his strategy against him.

This was either going to be a very long game or a very short one.

"Oh really?" He shouldn't be provoking her. This is what he told himself as he cursed his own curiosity and the infernal impulse to begin down this road of no return in the first place.

It was her fault.

The innocent way with which Pilar blinked up at him did nothing to assuage the trickling of apprehension (it certainly was _not _anticipation) that traveled down his spine. Her eyes lowered deliberately to settle on his hands. She studied his fingers with a critical eye and a faint smile touched her lips. Then she straightened and she made no attempt to hide the gleam of mischief in her gaze as she met his.

Pallin was quite certain his brain had stopped working.

"Have I ever told you," she began and her gaze slid back to the board as she reached out to move a piece, "that you have very shapely hands."

And he was officially catatonic.

He couldn't look at her so he focused on the board instead, which, to his chagrin, did not look promising anymore. What he needed to do was somehow put her off balance, but she was playing dirty. Yes, that was it. Just what he needed.

"You're playing _dirty, _Pilar." His voice positively purred and made his move.

Pilar's hand twitched. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish." She maintained primly.

"Neither should you."

She sat back and looked at him with a solemn frown, "I was joking." Her lips abruptly split into a devious grin, "But if I _could…_"

"Well," He declared and his mandibles flicked, "Should that day come, I expect to be the first to know."

Pilar had gone beat red, the board and her pieces forgotten. She hid her face behind her hair, stifling a choked laugh. "I can't believe you just said that."

_I wish I could live to take up that offer._

Pallin sat back, quite pleased with himself as the woman in front of him struggled to keep her composure between furtive glances in his direction and studying the board.

It looked to be a long game after all.

"Did you know that there's hanar-elcor pornography? "

Or not.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Disclaimer - if I knew what I was doing it wouldn't have taken this long to update. Aka, I have no idea what's going on, but I wrote something so I can feel slightly less guilty for the next 6 months. And in another 6 months after that I can become guilty all over again. I'm going to try and not let that happen, honestly. Bear with me, if any of you are still there. I've got another story to update now - I'm on a ROLL!

Oh yeah, and MASSIVE ME2 SPOILER***

…

…

PALLIN IS NOT DEAD BECAUSE PILAR ABDUCTED HIM, YOU BASTARDS!

My work here is done. Well, not yet. I've got like 5 chapters yet to go. Better start flexing my fingers before I fall back out of shape again.


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